The Sorcerer's Stone
by pumpkinmoose22
Summary: Having an immortal alias seemed like a great idea until Merlin receives word that everything he's built in the last six centuries could be in danger. A dark force has decided to creep towards Hogwarts in the shadows and it's up to Merlin and Dumbledore to protect the Sorcerer's Stone - but they might not be the only ones trying to do so.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to The Sorcerer's Stone! I do hope you enjoy the story and leave a review expressing your thoughts. This will be a multi-chapter fic and I will try to post updates as soon as I'm able. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, Harry Potter, or any other ideas produced by published authors I might forget to mention.**

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Chapter 01

A Growing Threat

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Merlin had just finished piling the last of his books into his large school trunk when a flash of fire erupted over his bed, the flames quickly transforming into a single red feather. The warlock looked around. Seeing that his fellow dormmates were busy loading their own trunks, he ignored the wand in his pocket and opted for flicking his finger. His eyes briefly lit a molten gold and the feather vanished. Pushing the bridge of his glasses further up his nose, he looked around again. Even though he knew the spectacles were glamoured to hide the evidence of magic from the Wizarding World, he was still nervous someone might see something they shouldn't; unlike in ancient times, those with magic in today's world didn't have eyes that manifest a golden hue when performing spells.

Finding that his slight anxiety was unfounded, Merlin casually shut his now-full trunk and made an excuse about going to find Nellie before leaving the dormitory. But instead of searching for her, he left Ravenclaw Tower, quickening his pace until his feet planted him in front of the entrance to the Headmaster's office. Giving the password (Acid Pops), Merlin waited for the wall to split open before wandering up the moving spiral staircase. Reaching a gleaming oak door with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin, he ignored it completely and simply pushed it open.

Stepping inside the circular room, he was immediately exposed to the unique office of the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Owned by Albus Dumbledore, a longtime friend, Merlin unconsciously smiled at the light noises and puffs of smoke coming from various instruments on spindle-legged tables. The portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses snoozed comfortably in the frames hanging around the large circular room, the largest being the painting of Armando Dippet right behind the headmaster's desk. Next to the desk was the perch of Fawkes the Phoenix, Dumbledore's pet bird, and seated behind the desk was Albus Dumbledore himself. Merlin experienced a silent sadness as he gazed upon his friend who, like everyone else, had not managed to escape the passage of time.

Dumbledore's once short auburn hair was now long and white, his old age producing a remarkable beard that reminded Merlin comically of his ancient 'Dragoon' disguise. The headmaster's crooked nose and twinkling blue eyes were ornamented with a pair of golden half moon spectacles and his lanky form was clothed in a remarkable green robe. A pleasant smile lit Dumbledore's face at the sight of him and he welcomed Merlin forward, indicating for him to sit in one of the two chairs opposite him.

"Nicolas, thank you for coming."

"Always a pleasure," Merlin smiled, sitting down. He finally noticed Dumbledore had another visitor. "Newt!" he cried in delight, "What are you doing here?"

The old Magizoologist tried to send his friend a genuine smile but failed as his worry hindered the action.

"I come with grave tidings, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked, his smile turning into a frown.

"I was on, um, 'holiday', if you will, with Tina in Albania," Newt began to explain, his hazel eyes shifting slightly.

"What magical creature were you after this time?" Merlin asked with a grin.

Every time Newt Scamander went on holiday it was because there was a creature he wanted to meet – much to Tina's chagrin; she felt he was getting too old to go gallivanting around the world but went with him anyway (out of love and fear for his safety).

Newt sighed, knowing Merlin knew him too well to believe he was simply taking a vacation.

"It was a manticore, to be honest," he admitted as Dumbledore's mouth twitched in silent amusement, "but the rumors were unfounded. Anyway, while I was there, I ran into a Vampire who told me of a forest that had recently been vacated of all magical creatures."

The humor in Merlin's eyes was replaced with concern.

"Did they tell you the cause?"

"She said that the animals were being possessed by some dark being and the magical creatures, not wanting to suffer the same fate, left."

Merlin's concern grew tenfold. A dark being possessing animals?

"Do you believe we're dealing with a vengeful ghost that's upset it can't pass through the Veil?"

"Normally I would jump to that conclusion myself, Nicolas, but given the theories I've shared with you in recent years, I fear it might be something else."

Merlin stared right into Dumbledore's eyes and experienced a small stirring of anxiety.

"You don't mean…?"

Dumbledore nodded, leaning into his threaded hands propped up by his elbows resting on the desk. His gaze became distant, the wrinkles of his forehead burrowing together as he became lost in contemplation. Merlin and Newt shared a glance, both drawing to the same conclusion the headmaster had. While Newt looked rather scared, Merlin was merely worried; not for himself, but for the world.

He hadn't forgotten the destruction and chaos that been inflicted by the hands of the evil wizard Voldemort to both the muggle and wizarding worlds. He had been beyond grateful when the man had been thwarted by young Harry Potter because the Old Religion had forbade him from getting personally involved. As the most powerful warlock to ever live, Merlin could have ended Voldemort's reign of terror when it had first begun but he was bound to listen to the ancient power that flowed through the earth. A prophecy concerning Voldemort and the Chosen One had been given and he knew better than anyone not to meddle with prophecies; they came to pass whether he liked them to or not. But even if he couldn't stop Voldemort, he could aid the Chosen One and he'd planned to do that – though he didn't discover the one destined to fill that role would be Harry until Halloween night about eleven years ago.

Many believed that Voldemort had died that day but Merlin knew better. He had examined the Potters demolished home himself and felt the remains of dark magic at work. He didn't know how but Voldemort had survived, he was sure of it. When he shared his suspicions with Dumbledore, the headmaster had agreed with him, sharing theories of his own concerning the creation of a horcrux, one of the blackest forms of magic Merlin had ever heard of. The possibility of Voldemort making a horcrux – or even several for that matter – did not rest well with him at all but it was the best theory the two old friends had come up with over the years. Though not confirmed, this new information of a dark being possessing animals fit the bill of a broken soul searching for a host to conceal itself.

"We need to find out if it's him," Merlin muttered, breaking the silence. "This is the first solid piece of evidence we've had in four years as to where he might be hiding. Newt, did that vampire say which forest the animals were being possessed in?"

"Somewhere in the west. Wait, you're not suggesting searching the place yourself, are you?" Newt asked anxiously.

"He can't hurt me, Newt," Merlin assured, "you know that."

"Do not underestimate him, Nicolas," Dumbledore admonished. "Voldemort is crafty and cunning. Even if his soul is currently broken I would not doubt he is a force to be reckoned with. Besides, I fear it might not be the best idea for you to go. Voldemort knows who you are and what you possess."

Merlin frowned. "Even so, I can't just sit back and do nothing, Albus. I have to go."

The old headmaster let out a weary sigh. "Nothing I say will change your mind, will it?"

Merlin sent him a sad grin. "You know it won't."

"Indeed I do. Sometimes I fear your immortality has made you careless."

Merlin laughed. "You might be right, Albus, but being immortal means that even if Voldemort tried anything on me I wouldn't die – and we both know I can easily defy the Imperius Curse and all other mind controlling spells."

Albus frowned. "Despite that, I still feel wary of sending you, Nicolas. You keep the Sorcerer's Stone with you at all times. That is perfect incentive for Voldemort to attack you. Imagine what he would do if he got hold of it!"

"I would never allow that to happen," Merlin stated, silently wishing for the thousandth time that Dumbledore knew who he truly was; if he did then he would understand that his magic could walk circles around _any_ attack Voldemort tried to implement.

"You can't rely on confidence in this situation, Nick," Newt muttered, meeting Merlin's eyes with a determined glare. "Think of Perenelle. Would you allow your pride to risk her safety?"

Merlin frowned. No, he would never do anything to risk his beloved wife – not when she was the only happiness he'd had to hold on to for the last six hundred years.

"Place the stone in Gringotts," Dumbledore suggested. "It's the safest place in the world besides Hogwarts and Perenelle will not be in any danger while you are away."

Merlin wrinkled his nose. He wasn't too thrilled about goblins. Although, their race _had_ come far since the days of Camelot; they had bred with humans over the years and become more civilized and tame. And, despite their greed still being deeply rooted in their blood, they _did_ take pride in their work of securing the treasures of witches and wizards. Merlin may not like them but even he had to admit they were efficient in keeping things safe.

"Alright," he conceded. "I'll place the stone in one of the high security vaults. Only you, Newt, Nellie, or myself will be allowed to remove it – and any we give permission to act on our behalf."

Dumbledore's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Nicolas. I know you would rather keep it with you but it brings me peace of mind to know it will be safe and far away should you actually cross Voldemort's path."

"When are you going to go?" asked Newt.

"As soon as I get Nellie home and drop off the stone at Gringotts," Merlin stated. "I'd rather not wait and allow this opportunity to pass. The sooner we confirm if Voldemort is there, the better."

"Please tell me what you find as soon as you return," Dumbledore said as the three men stood.

"I will," Merlin promised. "The train should be departing soon; come on, Newt, I'll walk you out."

"It was nice seeing you again, Albus," the old Magizoologist said, "even if the circumstances were not the best."

"Thank you for coming to me with the information, Newt," Dumbledore smiled. "You were right to do so."

"Having suspected who it might be I figured that, out of anyone, you had the right to know first."

"You did the right thing," Merlin praised. "But keep this information from the Ministry for now; we don't need to cause panic if this turns out to be nothing."

"I understand," Newt muttered. "Have a good summer, professor."

"You as well, Mr. Scamander," Dumbledore replied. "And don't forget to stop by after you've checked the forest, Nicolas."

"I won't, Albus," Merlin promised as he and Newt took their leave.

Once they were halfway down to the entrance hall, Newt gently grabbed Merlin's arm and pulled him into an empty classroom. Checking to make sure the area was devoid of any ghosts or Peeves the Poltergeist, the old Magizoologist turned to face his friend.

"Are you really going to place the stone in Gringotts or were you just telling Dumbledore that – and don't lie to me, Merlin, I know you too well."

Merlin sighed, a defeated smile crossing his young face. "You know, sometimes you're almost as bad as Arthur."

He regretted those words the second they left his mouth, his heart automatically clutching in pain as the image of his King was thrust to the forefront of his mind. Swallowing hard and trying to push the pain away, Merlin turned to face the greatest friend he'd had – besides Perenelle – since his Camelot days.

Newt Scamander was a rarity among men. He loved magical creatures more than anything in the world – besides his wife, Tina – and he had a connection with them that no other witch or wizard possessed. It was this connection that enabled him to discover who Merlin really was when they worked together during World War One in a confidential program to wrangle Ukrainian Ironbellys.

Though the dragons of today were nothing compared to the dragons of old (they were a hybrid of Old dragons and wyverns) Merlin was still able to control them due to his abilities as a dragonlord. Newt, though not a dragonlord in any way, shape, or form, was able to communicate with them too but in a different way. Merlin had been astounded, to say the least, when the dragons actually calmed under Newt's soft words and soothing presence.

Curious about the young man, Merlin got to know him and, over time, Newt discovered his secret. Merlin was a creature of magic, after all, and the gift Newt possessed enabled him to connect the dots. When he gently revealed to Merlin that he knew the truth, the warlock had been surprisingly calm. Out of every witch or wizard in the Wizarding World, he knew he had nothing to fear from Newt. Newt treated him no differently after his discovery and, over time, Merlin entrusted his secret with Tina, knowing that, like her husband, she would not look on him as some sort of deity. They had become his closest friends and though they refused to have any kind of Elixir like Perenelle to live forever, they were a treasure and joy he would sorely miss just as much as his Camelot friends when their time would come to leave this life.

Eyeing his aging friend, Merlin sighed. "No, Newt, I didn't lie. You and Albus are right; the stone would be safer if I left it behind."

Newt took Merlin's shoulders and sadly smiled. "I know you think yourself invincible, Merlin, but this is the right choice. Voldemort returning is the worst possible thing that could happen and I don't want the stone to be the thing that brings him back. You would hold yourself responsible and we both know that you cling to guilt with an iron fist."

Merlin laughed briefly through his nose. "It is one of my unfortunate traits – one that you, Tina, and Nellie have helped me combat on many occasions."

Newt smiled, the many wrinkles in his lined face cheerfully gathering together. "That's what friends do, Merlin. Now, you'd better go before the Hogwarts Express leaves without you."

"Even if it did, I'd just magick myself to the station and meet Nellie there," Merlin grinned.

Newt rolled his eyes. "How is it fair that the anti-disapparition jinx does not apply to you?"

"There are no spells from the New magic that can hinder the Old, Newt," Merlin chuckled.

Newt sighed. "Insufferable, you are. Take care of yourself, Merlin. I mean it."

"You too," Merlin answered, shaking his friend's old hand.

[][][]

Merlin sighed, leaning against the brick wall of platform nine and three-quarters with his trunk (now disguised as a briefcase) at his feet; he'd ended up missing the train after all. After parting ways with Newt, he'd returned to Ravenclaw tower only to find it empty. Perenelle had left him a note on his trunk saying that she'd see him at the station if not on the train. Merlin pulled the note from his pocket and smiled, his thoughts becoming lost in memory.

He had first met Perenelle when he'd decided to attend Beauxbatons Academy of Magic back in the early thirteen hundreds. While it was love at first sight for her, it took until after their years at school for Merlin to realize he had fallen in love with her too. This had terrified him because he had done everything in his power not to become romantically involved with anyone; relationships were difficult when one side lived forever and the other was subjected to the realm of time.

What ultimately won him over was Perenelle hunting him down and discovering his secret seven years after she'd graduated. She told him that she didn't care whether he was Nicolas Flamel or Merlin; she would love him no matter what. He'd married her after that, despite knowing the danger of what it would do to him.

Since leaving Camelot, he'd devoted most of his time to wandering around the world and learning all the facets magic had to offer because it distracted him from his loneliness and heartbreak. He'd made many friends in his travels but over and over he had to uproot his life before he became too attached. He never aged, you see, and he couldn't bear eternally repeating the pain of losing someone – he had enough holes in his heart to last him forever as it was. But he'd gone ahead and married Perenelle anyway because, honestly, he was tired of running away.

Never once did he regret his decision to marry her for she turned out to be a happiness he never thought he'd have. The only other woman he'd ever loved had been taken from him before their lives could even begin and since that day he had devoted himself to serving and protecting Arthur. But Arthur had been gone for many years and without a purpose – except for waiting for the prat to return – Merlin had become lost and lonely. Perenelle's unconditional love had been too tempting to refuse and so he had proposed and discovered the joys of being a married man.

The first four years were incredible and filled with bliss, Merlin finding himself happier than he'd been in centuries. But when the first gray hair appeared in Perenelle's wavy caramel locks, the warlock's happiness was replaced with fear. He started having nightmares, ones that he hadn't had for a long time, each involving the deaths of his closest friends. Arthur's was the most prominent and many nights Merlin would wake in tears, the image of his King's dead body drifting away from him on the Lake of Avalon burning behind his retinas. Perenelle had always been there to comfort him but Merlin couldn't help but think that one day her death would be added to the horrible dreams.

And so, out of desperation, he delved into any kind of magic he could think of that would separate his soul from its immortal chains.

After years of failed attempts – and many accidents that almost completely destroyed their house – Merlin's experiments with alchemy proved fruitful and the Sorcerer's Stone was born. Though it did not take away his immortality, it did create a way for Perenelle to remain at his side through a substance he called the Elixir of Life. The stone also had the side effect of turning any metal into pure gold but Merlin never abused that power, only using it to benefit others and furthering education through generous donations to magic schools worldwide.

Perenelle had been surprisingly excited about the idea of living forever. Merlin had been afraid that with all the grief she'd seen him go through, she wouldn't want to live such a life, but his young wife, with love radiating from her eyes, explained that with the stone she would never have to leave him. It also provided an excuse as to why Merlin never aged, effectively ending the need of having to constantly uproot his life and change his name. Merlin wasn't a fan of the idea of letting the world learn about the stone but with Perenelle's insistence he eventually allowed its existence to be known and, in time, he didn't regret it. He'd been Nicolas Flamel for hundreds of years, living in the same place for that long with his darling wife.

Eventually they started de-aging themselves for fun, periodically attending various wizard and muggle schools around the world under different aliases. This was how they met Albus Dumbledore, returning to Hogwarts the same time he started. Merlin chose to be sorted into Gryffindor that time – the Sorting Hat always refused to sort him because he was magic itself – and he'd ended up becoming Dumbledore's best friend. Though Perenelle was in Ravenclaw – she always ended up there no matter how many times they went to Hogwarts – she found time to be with them whenever their schedules would allow. Dumbledore, as clever as he was, discovered that Merlin was Nicolas Flamel in his second year. Merlin would have corrected him and said he was actually Merlin but he'd made the decision long ago that he would never disclose who he truly was to anyone; if they were to find out the truth themselves, then he would confirm it.

He was sure that if things had been different Dumbledore would have learned his true identity but, now that he hid behind the alias of an immortal, the likelihood of anyone discovering his secret was slim to none. This suited Merlin just fine (he didn't like the fame he had in the Wizarding World) but there were moments in later years that he regretted never telling Albus the truth. He teased the idea several times but he never actually followed through on any schemed attempts; perhaps it was an old habit of his since the fears of revealing his magic to anyone had been branded into his brain by his mother throughout his entire childhood.

Merlin was pulled from his thoughts as the whistle from the Hogwarts Express echoed off the walls of the platform, the scarlet steam engine crawling to a stop as many eager parents, waiting to be reunited with their children, shuffled closer to the doors. Soon the area was filled with families who began leaving the platform through the exit that would take them back to the muggle world. It didn't take long for Nellie to find him. He watched her approach, grinning at the slightly jutted lip she displayed.

"Now that's not fair," she grumbled, slightly looking up at him through her long caramel-colored bangs. "You get to go back to normal while I'm stuck as a fourteen year old?"

Merlin embraced her. "I'll remove the spell as soon as we get home," he promised.

"You'd better," she warned.

Taking out his wand, he waved it so her trunk also turned into a briefcase before picking up both items and following her through the exit. Once outside in the warm summer air, Merlin waited until the way was clear before whisking Perenelle back to Devon through the use of a self-made portkey. The two gently landed just outside the protective wards of their large home and Merlin quickly removed the spell over his wife.

The fourteen year old was replaced by a beautiful woman with the appearance of a thirty year old. Her long caramel hair cascaded in waves over her slightly tanned shoulders, dancing in the breeze coming from the sea. Merlin set down the suitcases and cradled her face in his hands examining every inch of her striking features. Her skin was smooth but sprinkled here and there with an occasional freckle, her nose straight but rounded and lifted upwards on the end. Her bottom lip was slightly larger than the upper, creating a breathtaking smile, and her eyes, sparkling hues of hazel, were windows to a cheerful soul.

Gracious, he loved her – and he proved it by kissing her right then and there.

"Merlin!" she laughed as he scooped her up, his eyes flashing and causing the briefcases to disappear into the house as he carried her inside. Any further protests were silenced as he kissed her again, maneuvering through the halls and up the stairs with ease, having memorized the inner designs of their home centuries ago. Reaching their bedroom, he flung the door aside and set her down on the bed, looming over her with a grin.

"You know, it really is hard to get in bed with you at Hogwarts. If I hadn't created the Room of Requirement all those years ago we wouldn't be able to have sex until the end of the school year."

"And how awful _that_ would be," she groaned, her eyes darkening with desire. "Now get down here; it's been at least three weeks since I was able to have you all to myself."

Merlin chuckled before immediately obliging, his lips meeting hers as passion took hold. It was glorious not having to hold back or worrying about anyone discovering them – because, while the Room of Requirement was the best place to go, they hadn't always ended up there. Sometimes it was an abandoned classroom, other times the Prefects bathroom and, on rare occasion, a broom closet. Merlin felt guilty for it but he wasn't always the strongest at keeping his feelings at bay. How Arthur had managed to do it was beyond him; there had been many council meetings where he'd noticed the king and queen itching to be alone but refraining indulging their desires until within the privacy of their own chambers. He envied the tenacity of the other side of his coin.

After a rather incredible round of love-making, Merlin redressed and kissed his adoring wife.

She smiled. "You know, even after six hundred years that never gets old."

Merlin laughed. "Indeed it doesn't."

Leaving her to get dressed, he went down into the kitchen to make dinner. A short while later she joined him, running her hand across his shoulder before picking up a knife and starting on the vegetables. The two worked together and soon they indulged in a fresh bowl of potato soup and a side of hot bread.

"Nellie, the reason I missed the train is because Dumbledore needed to talk to me," Merlin revealed after finishing off his second slice of bread.

Perenelle raised one thin eyebrow. "At the end of the school year?"

Merlin then explained what Newt had shared with them and how he was planning on going to Albania himself. His wife was rather concerned by the time he'd finished.

"I know you've said for several months that you've felt evil stirring," she muttered. "Do you think he might be it?"

"I'm not sure," Merlin admitted, "but he could be. We both know that Voldemort isn't really gone. Perhaps this is where he's hiding."

"And what are you going to do if he is there? You can't get rid of him – that's Harry Potter's job."

"You're right but I can cast a tracking spell and that will be a huge advantage if he ever tries to get close to the boy."

Nellie sighed. "Alright, Merlin, but you need to be careful."

Merlin took the Sorcerer's Stone from his pocket. "Are you okay with me putting this in Gringotts?"

She smiled. "I think it's a very good idea but only while you're chasing after Voldemort."

"I agree," Merlin muttered as he stood up. "Once I'm back, I'll collect it."

"You're leaving now?" she asked as he walked over to a cupboard and pulled out the roll of brown paper they usually used for wrapping presents.

"I don't want to miss the opportunity if it does turn out to be him," he replied as he wrapped up the stone and tied the tiny package with string. "I don't know how long I'll be gone but I'll scry you once in a while to see how things are going and I'll try to be back before the next school year starts."

Nellie stood up as he finished and they shared a heartfelt embrace and a gentle kiss. "Just be sure to come back to me," she muttered into his shoulder.

"I always do," he softly stated, kissing her forehead before slipping the package into the inner pocket of his robes.

Stepping back, he twisted on his heel and apparated to Diagon Alley. The streets were fairly empty now that it was reaching the evening hours, many either traveling home or heading to the Leaky Cauldron for a hot meal. Fingering the stone now resting in a secret pocket of his robes, Merlin hastened down the cobbled street, reaching Gringotts bank a few minutes later. The white establishment stood taller than any of the shops surrounding it. The goblin by the door saw him coming and its eyes widened slightly in recognition.

"Emrys," he whispered respectfully and bowed.

Merlin nodded to him before entering, trying not to be bothered by the action; he'd never liked people bowing to him. Even after Gwen had made him Court Sorcerer and he was openly acknowledged as part of the nobility, he hated all the attention; he only allowed it because Gwen told him it would be disrespectful not to.

Walking up to the nearest available counter, Merlin greeted the goblin and stated his business. "I need to use one of the highest security vaults you have accessible."

The goblin raised one curious bushy eyebrow and asked, "Hiding something of significant value, Emrys?"

"Whether I am or not is of no concern," Merlin replied.

"Of course," the goblin muttered as he pulled out a book and ran his long finger down the page before stopping to tap the surface. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen is available."

"I'll take it. How much?"

"For you, Emrys, nothing," he said before leaning in close and whispering, "We goblins have not forgotten the help you gave during the wars."

Merlin frowned. "Though I don't agree with some of the views of your kind, I felt it appropriate to interfere when my people were not treating you with respect."

"And we appreciate that," the goblin answered before waving to one of his associates standing near the wall. "Spindlesnatch will take you where you need to go. Vault seven hundred and thirteen," he said when Spindlesnatch drew near.

Spindlesnatch nodded to him before leading Merlin through a set of side doors that led to a narrow stone passage lit with torches. The goblin whistled and the customary cart rattled up the tracks in the middle of the floor towards them. Climbing in, a wide smile spread across Merlin's face when the cart took off, zooming quickly around turns, passing an underground lake, and continuing to delve deeper and deeper underground; the warlock had developed a strong love for roller coasters. There were rumors that the goblins kept a dragon down here but Merlin had never sensed one and he had done plenty of magical scans just to be sure. If he _had_ found one chained up, well, let's just say the goblins would have immediately regretted their actions.

Reaching vault seven hundred and thirteen, Merlin stepped out of the cart and stretched his legs while Spindlesnatch opened the door by stroking his finger against the surface. The goblin magic on the door was ingenious; Merlin was sure that if any witch or wizard – besides him – tried to break in, they would be unable to get out and end up rotting inside the vault for years. The vault was completely bare and Merlin wasted no time walking inside and placing the tiny package on the floor. He took a step back and stared at it, biting his bottom lip. Since creating it, this would be the first time he left it somewhere. This was the only thing keeping his dear sweet Perenelle alive. Without it, she would crumble into nothing but memories. Sure, he could try to make another one, but Merlin really didn't know if he could succeed a second time and he didn't want to consider the possibility of having to do so.

"You'll make sure it stays safe?" he asked as he turned to Spindlesnatch.

"You doubt our security?" the goblin asked with slight irritation.

Merlin's eyes flashed and, though the gold was hidden behind his glasses, the power from the raw pulse of his magic was certainly felt. Spindlesnatch flinched and took an unconscious step backward.

"I once lost everything I ever cared about," Merlin whispered, slowly walking towards the goblin, his tone low and dangerous. "I am entrusting you and this establishment with something that is beyond precious to me. If anything were to happen to it _, anything at all_ , those involved in the situation would be hunted down and interrogated by me – and believe me, if it gets to that point, I might display a power that hasn't been seen in a very long time. So, when I ask if you'll make sure it stays safe…"

Spindlesnatch swallowed and answered immediately, "We will do everything in our power to make it so, Emrys."

Merlin leaned back and nodded in satisfaction. "That's all I ask."

Spindlesnatch inclined his head and Merlin returned the gesture, climbing back into the cart only after the goblin cast the magic that would seal the door closed. As the cart prepared to take them back to the surface, Merlin whispered his own spell of protection on the door, his eyes burning gold just before the cart took off. After returning to the top floor, Merlin made sure to thank Spindlesnatch before leaving the building, his heart in his mouth with anxiety. He almost turned around but then he thought of what would happen to his precious Nellie if Voldemort got his hands on the stone. He decided it was best to leave things be – for now. Taking a deep breath, Merlin stepped out of Gringotts and forced himself down the cobbled street of Diagon Alley.

After a few hundred yards, he entered a small alley between two shops and pulled out a power stone. It was an object of the Old Religion that acted like a magical aquifer, allowing a sorcerer to store large quantities of their energy within and then use it to increase the potency of any spell they cast. Transportation spells – both Old and New – were remarkable things but even they had their limits and none were strong enough to carry someone across continents. But, with the help of a power stone, Merlin could do it. Holding it tightly in his fist, the warlock called upon both the magic in his veins and that which he'd stored within the power stone before transporting.

Landing just off the E852 near Librazhd, Merlin transfigured his robes for muggle clothes and backtracked a ways until he found a town with a gas station that held a map of the surrounding area. Purchasing it, he wandered back outside and started for the mountains. He had a lot of ground to cover and he had to be extremely thorough if he was to succeed. Merlin sighed, looking up at the vast mountains before him covered in nothing but thick foliage and tall trees.

"Why did I volunteer for this?" he grumbled aloud, marching away from the road, "Oh yeah, because even if I ran into Voldemort, he wouldn't be able to kill me. You know, even though I'm hunting for the broken soul of a sorcerer, it would be nice if the Prat and the knights could help me track him down; best hunters in the five kingdoms… never around when you need them."

Merlin tried not to feel bitter as he thought of his friends, all of them probably lounging in Avalon enjoying their afterlife. How he wished he could join them! Life was hard enough but an immortal life? He wouldn't wish that on anyone nor could he understand why so many people desired such a thing. Shaking his head, he eventually entered the woods and spread his magic out, searching for any signs of animal life.

He traveled long after the sun had set, his path only visible because of the blue orb he had conjured to float a few feet above him. Near midnight he decided to get some sleep. After transfiguring a tree into a tent and setting up protective wards in a ten foot perimeter, Merlin entered the makeshift home and kicked off his shoes. Despite the fancy tents many of his kind used today -that resembled the inner structure of a fully furnished house- Merlin only thought of the necessities: a bed to sleep on and a bathroom to use. Yawning, he crawled under the thick covers and placed a heating spell upon them before falling asleep.

[][][]

Newt sat in comfort, a mug of butterbeer clasped in his hand, as he listened to Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts Gamekeeper, go on and on about a three headed dog he'd bought off a Greek fellow a year ago.

"He's jus' the sweetest thing," Hagrid was saying, "Yeh'd love 'im, Newt."

"He sounds like quite the excitable creature," Newt smiled, incredibly interested. "Perhaps I can come by sometime next week?"

"O' course," Hagrid happily agreed before draining his fifth round of firewhiskey from his large tankard.

"What did you say his name was again?"

"Fluffy."

Newt chuckled. Few would ever give such a cuddly name to a massive creature with three heads; he would have.

The door to the Leaky Cauldron opened and in stepped a man wearing black robes and an incredibly frightened countenance. As he approached the bar, Newt did a double take and stood up.

"Professor Quirrell?"

The man practically leapt out of his skin as he whipped around to see who had addressed him. "O-Oh," he nervously chuckled, "M-Mr. S-Scamander! I didn't s-see you t-there."

Newt frowned. When he was in Albania with Tina, they'd run into the Hogwarts professor at a local pub. Apparently he'd taken a one year sabbatical to gain 'firsthand experience' but he hadn't been stuttering then nor had he look like a cornered animal as he did now. Had something happened?

"Are you alright?" he inquired.

"F-Fine," Quirrell replied, waving his hand back and forth.

"Yeh look as if yer about to leap out o' yer skin, professor," Hagrid commented, just as concerned as Newt for the younger man. "Did somethin' happen to yeh while traveling? When did yeh get back?"

"L-Last w-w-week," the professor answered as Newt guided him over to their table. "I r-ran into a v-v-vampire or t-two – and a h-hag – and well…" he shrugged helplessly, his nerves clearly on edge as he looked into the far corners of the room, believing that something sinister was waiting in the shadows to attack him.

"Vampires can be a little tricky," Newt comforted, "and I make it my business to stay as far away from hags as possible."

"I t-take it you d-didn't run into a-any of them w-while y-you were in A-Albania, t-then?"

"Hags? No," Newt answered while shaking his head.

"What were yeh doin' in Albania, Newt?" asked Hagrid.

"I was trying to follow up on a rumor about a manticore but that's all it turned out to be," Newt sighed with great disappointment. "I did get to talk to a vampire though – say, professor, you didn't happen to see anything _odd_ while you were out there, did you?"

"O-Odd? What d-do you m-mean, M-Mr. S-Scamander?"

"My vampire friend told me that the magical creatures had abandoned a particular part of the forest," Newt said. "I just wondered if you'd seen anything unusual – dead animals perhaps?"

"D-Dead animals?" Quirrell repeated, his eyes wide with terror as he adamantly shook his head, "I'm afraid I d-didn't see a-anything like t-that. M-Maybe your v-v-vampire friend was m-mistaken?"

"Maybe," Newt muttered though he knew this wasn't the case.

The vampire had looked rather spooked when talking to him and it wasn't exactly in a vampire's nature to be scared about anything. Once again he thought back to the conversation about a month ago when Dumbledore had suggested leaving the stone in Gringotts before Merlin went to Albania to scope things out; if Voldemort had been there and gotten his hands on it… it wouldn't have been good for any of them.

Hagrid cleared his throat, pulling Newt from his thoughts. "Say, I hate ter leave ya, Newt, but I'd best be getting' back – Hogwarts duties an' all."

"Oh, that's alright, Hagrid," he said with a smile.

"Yeh'll come by an' look at Fluffy? Professor Dumbledore wants ter know what yeh think about him guardin' the Sorcerer's Stone – if we have ter move it out o' Gringotts, o' course."

" _Hagrid!"_ Newt cried in panic, looking around to see if anyone besides the professor had overheard.

Quirrell's eyes widened. "The Sorcerer's Stone? As in the one owned by Nicolas Flamel?"

Newt glowered at the apologetic half giant before sighing, "Yes, professor, but I didn't know it was planning on being moved."

He sent the half-giant a questioning glare and Hagrid sheepishly nodded his head before whispering, "Currently it's not but Dumbledore's made a plan to protect the stone with a few o' the teachers help – you're one of 'em too, professor."

"He is?" Newt asked at the same time Quirrell said, "I am?"

Hagrid nodded and Newt started to relax. If Quirrell was supposed to help protect the stone then it was alright that he knew where it was. Still, it wouldn't do to continue this conversation here.

"Hagrid, I think Professor Quirrell should learn the rest of this potential plan from Dumbledore himself."

The half-giant stared down at Newt and got the hint. "Oh, er, right, we'd best be off then."

"You go o-on ahead, H-Hagrid," said Quirrell. "I h-have to p-p-prepare for the n-new school year, you s-see – a f-few things to b-buy…"

"Right," Hagrid grunted, his large chair scrapping in protest as he stood. "I'll see yeh later then, professor. Newt, always a pleasure."

"I'll see you next week," Newt said with a smile before he turned to Quirrell. "I hope you have a good term, professor."

"T-Thank you, M-Mr. S-Scamander," he stuttered. "Enjoy y-your evening."

Newt nodded to him before paying for his and Hagrid's drinks – it had been his turn to pay – before leaving the pub. He prayed that no one else had overheard that conversation.

"I should really stop allowing Hagrid to drink so much," he sighed before apparating to his quiet home in the country.

[][][]

It took a little over a month before Merlin found the area that Newt had described to him – which was a good thing since he'd nearly reached the end of his rope after three weeks of negative results. As he looked around the middle of the Shebenik-Jabllanice National Park, he immediately noticed the lack of magical creatures as well as littered animal remains scattered about the forest floor. Merlin's eyes narrowed at the dark magic that lingered, poisoning the air. Every inch of him was longing to leave but he knew he was close, closer than he'd ever been, and he wasn't about to turn back now.

It took an entire day to thoroughly search the infected area and by the end of it Merlin was exhausted and empty-handed. The next day he covered the terrain surrounding the spot but discovered that the black magic lingering within a radius of seventeen miles abruptly stopped. Suspicious as well as nervous, Merlin rested under a shady tree and considered his options.

Voldemort had been here – the dark magic hovering around the dead animals and lack of magical creatures was evidence enough – but the real question was, was he still? Merlin highly doubted it. He had a knack for recognizing dark magic because it always caused his own to recoil and squirm in disgust. The first time he'd met Severus Snape, for example, he'd known the man was a Death Eater; perhaps no longer by choice, but the sinister magic of his Dark Mark was easy to detect.

But, while wickedness permeated the air of this section of the forest like the plague, it was not potent enough to suggest that Voldemort still lived here. A sickening dread entered Merlin's stomach and he feared that the evil wizard was on the move. But even if he wanted to continue his search, Merlin didn't feel he had the time. It was more pressing to return to Dumbledore and tell him what he'd found. He also was beyond anxious that he'd left the Sorcerer's Stone in Gringotts for so long. While he knew his protection charm was still in place, he couldn't help but feel wary.

Something just didn't feel right about all of this.

Pulling out the power stone, Merlin concentrated on the village of Hogsmeade and transported. By the time he reached his destination, the power stone was nearly empty. Winded, Merlin took a moment to take several deep breaths before pocketing the stone and hastening to Hogwarts.

It was odd to be back in civilization and the smells coming from the Three Broomsticks were so tempting that Merlin almost turned unconsciously in that direction. But then he remembered his purpose and forced his appetite aside, hurrying onward. Reaching the castle and unlocked its doors, he entered and then strode towards the marble staircase. He didn't run into any of the teachers on his way and it wasn't until he reached the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's tower that he realized he no longer knew the password.

Frowning, he used the old tongue to command the stone to move and it obliged, the wall splitting apart to reveal the familiar revolving staircase behind. Mounting the stairs two at a time, Merlin reached the door and thrust it open. Dumbledore jumped at the sudden intrusion but his surprise transformed to concern and relief when he saw who it was that had so rudely disturbed his afternoon.

"Nicolas, I was beginning to think I would have to send an army out to look for you. You've been gone for over a month, my friend. Why, it's almost August!"

"I know," Merlin sighed, crossing the room and falling into the armchair in front of Dumbledore's desk. "It's been a rather taxing journey."

"Did you find anything?" Dumbledore eagerly asked.

"I think so, Albus, and it isn't good."

He then related his findings to the headmaster concerning the contaminated area of the Shebenik-Jabllanice National Park as well as his concerns of keeping the stone in Gringotts.

"I don't like it being there, Albus," he confessed. "I'd rather not have it there when I come back to school either – but I also don't feel safe keeping it with me. We know that Voldemort is obsessed with power and the Sorcerer's Stone is no secret. He's going to come after it and that could put Nellie in danger. Where can we keep it where it will be safe?"

"We'll hide it here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said at once, "where it will be guarded by various enchantments built by people we trust. Even if Voldemort were to breech the first few obstacles, we would learn of his attempt to get to the stone long before he could reach it and be able to thwart him."

Merlin's eyebrows rose and he blinked a few times before a chuckle escaped him.

"Just how long have you been planning this?"

"Oh, since about the time you left and put the stone in Gringotts," Dumbledore mused, his eyes twinkling.

"Why am I not surprised? I assume you have a list of people you believe are trustworthy to make the enchantments."

"Indeed I do." He ruffled a few papers around on his desk before finding the parchment he was looking for. "Ah, here we are."

He held it out to Merlin who took it and read off the list of names, instantly approving of each candidate. Nodding to himself, he looked up at Dumbledore and sighed.

"Let me talk to Nellie about everything before we go ahead and implement this."

"Alright. But, Nicolas, I don't think you should be the one to retrieve the stone from the vault."

Merlin froze. "Why?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry Potter is returning to the Wizarding World this year. I would not be surprised if the reason Voldemort left the forest was to fix his failure. We know he is too weak to currently do anything – he needs more power than he presently has... I fear you are right, Nicolas; he might come after you. He may already be watching your every move, waiting for a perfect time to steal the stone. Let me handle the business of moving it here to Hogwarts. I promise it will arrive safely."

Merlin frowned in thought for a moment before consenting to Dumbledore's offer.

"Alright, Albus – but don't do anything until I talk to Nellie. I want her opinion."

"Don't make me wait too long, Nicolas. If Voldemort truly is on the move, it would do well for us to stay one step ahead."

"Indeed it would," Merlin agreed, his countenance dark. "Take care of yourself, Albus. I'll send you an owl as soon as I can."

Dumbledore nodded to him and the ancient warlock left the office, heading for home.


	2. Chapter 2

**A big thank you to all who took the time to review, favorite, follow, and read the first chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter**

* * *

Chapter 02

Old Men and Young Love

* * *

Perenelle readily agreed to move the stone to Hogwarts after Merlin shared what he found in Albania; the ancient warlock promptly sent an owl to Dumbledore telling him to go ahead and set up the enchantments within the school that same night.

"Will Albus need any help?" Perenelle asked as she slipped into the bathtub a while later, her soft fingers wrapping around Merlin's torso as he leaned back against her chest.

"He didn't say he would," Merlin sighed in bliss as his wife's lips touched the back of his neck.

"I missed you, Merlin," she whispered.

Merlin took her hand and gently kissed it. "I missed you too, sweetheart."

"I hate when you disappear for months at a time," she grumbled, her arms possessively tightening around his torso.

"But I always come back," he said with a comforting gaze.

Perenelle scowled. "Oh, don't give me those eyes – I'm trying to be upset! You've been gone for almost a month and a half!"

Merlin twisted around to face her and set to work enhancing his puppy-dog stare. "And you know I don't like leaving you for that long."

Glaring, she slapped his chest. "You're horrible."

The warlock grinned. "Why?"

Instead of answering, his wife struck like a cobra, enclosing the space between them and splashing water everywhere as she attacked him with a furious kiss.

"Perenelle," he began to laugh.

"Shut up and kiss me," she commanded.

"As my lady wishes," he muttered, gathering her in his arms and disappearing under the surface of the water, his magic creating a bubble charm so they could breathe.

[][][]

About a week later Merlin was busy helping Perenelle in the garden when a flash of fire appeared above his head followed by a scorched piece of parchment. Snatching the note, Merlin read it quickly and turned to his wife who was currently removing tomatoes from some thick vines.

"The enchantments are in place," he shared, burning the note with a flame in his palm before returning to the weeds threatening to choke their green beans.

"That's great!" Perenelle declared as she wiped her sweaty brow. "When will the stone be moved?"

"Tomorrow," Merlin said, yanking up a particularly difficult weed and tossing it angrily into a garbage bag he was holding. "I just wish I could remove it myself!"

Perenelle stared at him a moment before abandoning the tomatoes and moving to his side. "Merlin, you know you can't do everything. You need to trust that Albus can handle this."

Merlin sighed. "I know, I know. I'm just not completely comfortable waiting around."

"Would it put your mind at ease to be there when it reaches the school?"

"Not as much as me getting it there myself," he grumbled, "But I suppose seeing it arrive with my own eyes would be better than just getting a note."

Perenelle smiled. "Then go to school tomorrow. I'm going to visit Tina anyway so it'll give you something to do."

"Alright," he agreed.

Perenelle kissed him before going back to the tomatoes. Merlin watched her work for a moment before returning to the weeds.

 _Please let the stone arrive safely at Hogwarts without me_ , he silently begged. He couldn't afford a life without Perenelle – he didn't think he'd be able to survive the loss…

[][][]

"Nicolas, I fear if you keep pacing that you'll run a hole through my rug."

Merlin sent Dumbledore an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Albus… don't you think Hagrid should have arrived by now?"

Dumbledore pulled out a rather peculiar pocket watch. "He should be finishing up with Harry any moment now."

"Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Yes, the poor boy has been monstrously difficult to get hold of – his aunt and uncle's doing, I have no doubt."

"Is he alright?" Merlin asked, temporarily forgetting the stone as he recalled this boy's importance pertaining to the Dark Lord's downfall.

"Hagrid found him well enough but only after some rather pitiful attempts made by his relatives to elude us," Dumbledore answered with a twitch of his beard.

Merlin grinned. "The muggles tried to run away from magic? They must have been rather disappointed when they failed."

"Indeed," Dumbledore chuckled. "Unfortunately Harry will have to return to them for the remainder of the summer and I do hope he can avoid any hostility under their roof."

"I can pop my head in, so to speak, if you need someone to check on him," Merlin offered.

"That's very kind of you, Nicolas, but Mrs. Figg is already on duty. She'll report anything out of place."

While this was all well and good, Merlin silently decided to check on Harry anyway. It had been several months since the last time he'd taken a stroll down Privet Drive and he felt a little guilty neglecting paying attention to the Boy Who Lived. While it wasn't his job to make sure Harry stayed safe, he still felt some sort of obligation to keep an eye on the lad – since he'd been branded by Destiny similarly as Merlin had all those years ago. The mention of Destiny caused the familiar aching sadness to start to push its way to the surface of his heart and Merlin hastily beat it away, refusing to think of a certain golden-haired prat and an ancient kingdom of stone. Such thoughts brought nothing but sorrow.

A loud knock on the door followed by the appearance of Hagrid proved an effective distraction and Merlin's thoughts were replaced with anxiety.

"Did you get it?" he demanded.

Hagrid smiled down at Merlin as he pulled the grubby little package containing the stone from one of the many pockets of his overcoat.

"Got it right here, Mr. Flamel, sir."

"Thank goodness," Merlin sighed in relief as Dumbledore asked, "Did you run into any trouble, Hagrid?"

"None at all, sir," Hagrid assured as he passed the package to Merlin who deftly ripped the paper away to look at the stone. Another sigh escaped the warlock, his heart returning to its regular rhythm.

"It's not a fake either," he declared.

"Did yeh expect it to be, sir?" Hagrid asked.

"You can never be too careful, Hagrid," Merlin replied. "While most people trust goblins, I've been around them for hundreds of years. It's best not to assume their hands are lily white."

"Well, since we have the genuine article, shall we place it in its new home?" asked Dumbledore.

"I'll make sure it gets there, Albus," Merlin stated, holding the stone tightly in his fist. He really didn't want to entrust the task to anyone but himself.

Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "Just make sure not to destroy all the enchantments on your way down there, Nicolas."

Merlin smirked. "I'll do my best but I can't make any promises. Thank you for safely retrieving the stone, Hagrid. When Albus told me you were going to get it, many of my fears were put to rest."

The small amount of Hagrid's cheeks visible over his beard darkened and he rocked back and forth on his large feet. "Thanks fer the compliment, sir. I'm glad I could help."

Merlin smiled kindly. "You're welcome. Albus, I'll just take my leave after this is safe."

"By all means," Dumbledore smiled but before Merlin could leave, he called him back. "Oh, Nicolas," – his long fingers dug through the parchment on his desk and he pulled out two thick envelopes gleaming with green ink – "I might as well give these to you now and save an owl."

Merlin took the letters with a curious brow. One was addressed to him and the other, his wife.

"Might I ask what these are?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Oh, just an old man's amusement, nothing more. I expect I'll see you and Perenelle at the Start of Term Feast?"

"We'll be there," Merlin promised.

Saying his farewells, he then left the office and headed to the third floor corridor.

Instead of bothering working his way through the enchantments – he'd seen them all with Dumbledore earlier that morning – Merlin instead unlocked the door, closed it, and used his magic to transport down to the hall where the stone would be kept all before Fluffy could even open one of his large six eyes.

The room was spacious but not breathtaking in any manner; just a set a stone walls with torches and a tiled floor. When they were down here earlier Dumbledore had said he was working on one final failsafe for the stone but he wouldn't elaborate when Merlin asked him what it was. He simply asked Merlin to trust him, saying the stone would be perfectly safe out here in the open until he could work out its final protection. If it had been anyone else asking him to do such a thing Merlin would have refused but Albus had proved himself long ago to be a man of his word. So, with a heavy sigh, Merlin walked to the middle of the room and placed the stone on the floor. Taking a step back, he looked down at the blood red object and couldn't help shaking his head.

"And to think I originally created you to get _rid_ of my immortality," he sighed. "At least one good thing came out of all this… Too bad I didn't think of it when Arthur was –"

He stopped, his throat closing up. _No;_ he _couldn't_ think about that. It was _pointless_ to do so. Hastily wiping his cheek, Merlin took a calming breath and looked down at the stone one last time before calling upon his ancient magic to take him home to Devon. Encircled by the familiar warmth of his magic, Merlin's surroundings transformed from the underground hall to the open skies of his homeland, the sea breeze instantly ruffling his hair in the late afternoon sun.

Changing his appearance – he usually looked like a forty year old man when around the magical community – Merlin sighed in relief as his wrinkles stretched tight and his skin became smooth.

The moment Arthur died the warlock had stopped aging. Frozen in the image of a twenty eight year old, he had to watch as Gwen, Gaius, and the remaining knights withered away until death claimed them. He hadn't learned his fate until ten years after Arthur's death. People started questioning his appearance but Merlin had always thought he simply had a youthful face – until he'd been dealt a mortal blow by an assassin trying to kill Gwen. After killing the man and experiencing incredibly excruciating pain, Merlin's wound healed itself and he stood on his own two feet alive and well.

Many accidents followed this one where he should have died and yet continued to live, his body experiencing the pains of death before his magic would heal him. It had become quite annoying actually, tasting death over and over but never being given the reward; Merlin's body now displayed twice as many scars as what he'd gained during his days as Arthur's manservant. Frowning in misery over his predicament, Merlin wished for the billionth time that Arthur would just return already. The world had changed so much over the thousand and some odd years he'd been gone and yet the Old Religion hadn't brought him back. What was it waiting for anyway? Couldn't it see that a change was needed?

The ancient warlock closed his eyes and reveled in the limited magic he could feel in the air.

In modern times the Old Religion could rarely be found, the ancient power having retracted into the earth because of the abuse man had done to the land over countless centuries. Despite this, a diluted form of magic managed to survive through the exploitation, becoming the power witches and wizards used today. Merlin could use both Old and New magic -since it was one in the same to him- but he found the Old Spells were significantly more potent than the New. He'd taught Perenelle the incantations of the Old Religion but they were too powerful for her magical capability to handle. Merlin suspected that there wasn't a witch or wizard alive that could use them anyway; the old ways had become nothing but a relic… just like him.

Merlin sighed, hanging his head as he walked over to a bench he'd made three hundred years ago when he'd gone through a 'blacksmith faze'. The ironwork was beautiful, the best he'd ever made, the back of the bench molded into the shape of a dragon's wing. The beast's upper body and curved head served as a place one could lean against while the tail made up the opposite armrest. The dragon's other wing stuck out to the side and was buried partially in the ground, the thick iron 'membrane' fully open as if hoping to catch an up-current of wind. Sitting down on the ornate bench, Merlin leaned into the dragon's body and rested his elbow on the creature's long neck. His eyes looked out at the sea, the rolling waves crashing against the land hundreds of feet below him.

A few unconscious tears fell down his face as he watched the waves, his mind caught up in memories long since passed, his heart sorrowing over his immortality.

Perenelle found him sitting in the same spot several hours later, her forty year old face pulled into a frown as she watched his sad eyes turn away from the sea to face her. She took his hand and squeezed it. Words weren't needed; Perenelle knew him well enough now to understand the sadness he was feeling was something she could never fully take away. There was only one person who could and he was always out of Merlin's reach.

"Dinner's ready," she said instead, kissing his forehead.

Merlin stood up and stretched, feeling hungry for the first time that day. "Thanks Nellie," he muttered, kissing her.

"You know," she pulled away, "if I have to look like a forty year old when out in public then so do you."

"But we're not in public now, are we dear?" he grinned as he scooped her up into his arms. "We own all the land up to those distant mountains in the North; not a soul around for miles!"

"Then change me back," she demanded as she allowed him to carry her towards the house.

"I don't think I will," Merlin mused. "I prefer cougars anyway."

Perenelle swatted his chest. "Whatever! We both know that's a lie – you significantly robbed the cradle and you know it!"

Merlin laughed and set her down now that they'd reached the front door, changing her back to the age of thirty when she first started taking the Elixir of Life.

Their large home was actually a miniature castle, the four corners of the square structure made of circular towers with pointed roofs and the center sporting a slanted ceiling. The outer wall was a combination of dark gray, reddish, and cream colored stones that had been magically fortified to withstand the tests of time. A covered parapet connected the northwest and southwest towers, the inside containing a pool and hot tub while the southeast tower led up to the master bedroom and the southwest tower contained the library. The basement was made up of a home theater, pool table, and secret room housing all the things the couple had collected in their extended life. The kitchen, dining room, study, and sitting room were located on the ground floor while the second floor had five bedrooms – two of which had been dedicated to Perenelle's love of craft projects and one to a place where Merlin could experiment with his magic. The small castle had been their home for many years and had changed over time as technology advanced. Merlin cherished the place almost as much as he had Camelot – almost.

"What's for dinner?" Merlin asked as he shut the door.

"Parmesan chicken and angel hair," Perenelle answered.

"Sounds great," he commented, kissing her on the cheek before heading into the dining room.

When they were halfway through dinner, Perenelle took a sip of wine and asked, "So, did the stone arrive safely?"

Merlin swallowed a mouthful of delicious pasta and nodded. "Yes and I checked to make sure it was the real thing. I have to say I feel much better knowing it's at Hogwarts instead of Gringotts."

"Me too," she agreed. "Did you get to see the enchantments?"

"I did. While they are indeed well made I believe Voldemort is crafty enough to break them all."

"Even Albus's?"

Merlin shook his head. "Albus is still working on his – he wouldn't tell me what it was going to be – said that we just have to trust him. If Voldemort does come after the stone, I believe Albus's enchantment will provide enough time for us to catch up to him."

"Once it's ready anyway," Perenelle tacked on.

"Yes," Merlin agreed, "once it's ready."

"Do you think it'll be by the time school starts?"

"I don't know," Merlin honestly answered, "but I'm hoping so. Speaking of, Albus gave me these letters."

He pulled the letters from his pocket and handed Perenelle the one that was addressed to her. Frowning slightly, the two opened them and Merlin silently read.

 _Dear Mr. Penrys,_

 _For your outstanding efforts these past four years we have seen fit to award you the position of prefect for Ravenclaw House. Please report to the front of the Hogwarts Express on September first to receive your instructions from the new Head Boy and Girl._

 _Wishing you well,_

 _Professor Albus Dumbledore_

 _Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Merlin snorted as he picked up the shining prefect badge. "Silly old codger," he muttered.

"Merlin, you're older than him!" Perenelle laughed, setting her own prefect badge aside.

"True but he looks older," Merlin countered. "Prefects though? Really?"

Perenelle chuckled. "Albus always did have a sense of humor. Besides, this gives us actual permission to use the prefects bathroom instead of having to sneak in after hours."

Merlin grinned. "And we get to patrol the halls at night without have to worry about people bothering us. I guess he's doing us a favor, isn't he?"

"You are one of his longest standing friends," Perenelle smiled.

"It has its perks, I suppose," Merlin laughed but then his chuckling transformed into a groan.

"Merlin? What is it?"

"Percy Weasley," Merlin answered with a disdained frown.

Perenelle's eyes glinted as she wickedly grinned. "Oh, let's hope he also became a prefect!"

"Why on earth would we want that?" Merlin asked, mortified by the very thought.

"Because he'll believe he has a better chance than without one," Perenelle answered with a shrug.

Merlin groaned, looking at the badge offensively. "Personal amusement… I hate that old man."

[][][]

Merlin was not very happy the next morning and he had a perfectly good reason not to be. Receiving the Daily Prophet while drinking his morning tea, he choked and spat liquid all over the front page.

His eyes had scanned the whole length of the article by the time Perenelle joined him. Her gaze became one of concern as she observed her wary husband and the mess he'd made.

"Merlin, what happened?"

"Someone tried to break into Gringotts."

"What?!"

"They didn't get anything," Merlin assured, throwing the paper aside, "but I would bet the remaining relics I have of Camelot that whoever it was, was after the stone."

Perenelle frowned. "How would they have known it was there? No one knew except you, me, Albus, and the Scamanders."

Merlin shook his head. "I don't know but that's got to be what they were after, Nellie. Think about what's going on. Harry Potter is about to return to the Wizarding World, a forest in Albania once filled with dark magic is now devoid of the source, and Gringotts is broken into. It's Voldemort. He's coming after the stone. He wants to return to power so he can kill Harry Potter and finish what he started. The stone would help him do this."

"Then it's a good thing it's at Hogwarts," Perenelle muttered, fetching her own cup of tea.

"And not a moment too soon," Merlin added. "The stone is safe for now but we shouldn't relax. We have enough Elixir to last through Christmas but I'm going to have to make more. We have to make sure the stone stays where it is until then."

"Another excellent reason for Albus to make us prefects then; we'll be able to patrol the area as frequently as we want without drawing suspicion."

Merlin sighed. "We don't want to make it too obvious that we know what Fluffy is guarding but you're right; we don't want to leave it unattended for long periods of time. If anyone tries to steal it, it will be during the night when the castle is quiet and the halls undisturbed."

"Something tells me this year is going to be complicated," Perenelle said with disdain.

"I hate to agree with you, but I think you're right."

There was a knock at the door. Frowning, Merlin quickly used magic to make them both look forty before going to answer it.

"Merlin! Did you see?!"

"Newt? What are you doing here?" Merlin asked as he moved to let his old friend inside.

"The paper! Did you see it?"

"Of course we did," Perenelle answered, coming out of the kitchen to give Newt a hug.

"There's nothing to worry about, Newt," Merlin assured, "the stone was moved yesterday before the break in happened."

"I fear it might be my fault that there was a break in at all!" Newt confessed before telling them of the conversation he'd had with Hagrid about a week ago in the Leaky Cauldron. "Someone must have overhead us. I am so sorry, Merlin. I never should have let Hagrid drink so much!"

"Newt, calm down, it's not your fault," Merlin comforted. "Nobody can stop Hagrid from drinking - or his tongue when it's loose, for that matter. Can you remember who was there?"

Newt shook his head. "It's a little blurry, I'm afraid; I was somewhat intoxicated myself. Professor Quirrell was there and I think I saw Dedalus Diggle and a couple of witches in the corner but" – he shrugged – "it could have been anyone."

"You're right," Merlin agreed. "But there's no need to panic. Even if the person overheard Hagrid talking about moving the stone to Hogwarts, they would have a difficult time trying to infiltrate the school. Not only is Albus there but I am as well and I'm not about to let a stranger into the castle."

Newt hesitantly smiled as his shoulders relaxed. "Well, when you put it that way... if someone tries to break into the castle I'd hate to be them."

Perenelle chuckled. "You and me both, Newt. Now, can we get you a cup of tea?"

"Oh, no thanks, I need to get back to Tina; I kind of left without telling her why," he confessed, blushing slightly.

"Go on then," Merlin smiled, patting his friend on the back. "We'll see you later."

"Alright; take care, you two."

Newt left and the couple shared a worried glance.

"Do you think Voldemort was there?" Perenelle asked.

Merlin frowned. "It's possible but even if he was, he failed in getting the stone this time and he's never going to succeed should he try again." He then stood and wrapped Perenelle into his arms. "I'll make sure of that," he added, kissing her forehead.

[][][]

The rest of the holidays Merlin spent periodically checking in on Harry Potter. The boy had no clue he was there – Merlin had cloaked himself with an invisibility spell – but nothing out of the ordinary happened in Privet Drive. Merlin supposed he should be thankful. If he could help it, he'd like Voldemort to remain ignorant of his existence forever.

When September first rolled around, Merlin promised to meet Perenelle on the Hogwarts Express, stating that he wanted to make sure Harry arrived at King's Cross station without any trouble. His wife had agreed and supported his decision to watch over the Chosen One, understanding the reason of keeping him safe better than most ever would.

That morning, Merlin sat comfortably in his blue Porsche at the end of Privet Drive. His dark sunglasses hiding his observant eyes, he silently watched the occupants of number four. Mr. Dursley was large, beefy, and rather alarming while his wife was tall, thin, and prim as could be. Their son, Dudley, resembled a beach ball and looked too big to be allowed while Harry Potter was the exact opposite of all three of his relatives.

He was a rather scrawny thing with untidy black hair and round glasses that were held together with a layer of tape. His thin body was drowning in clothes that Merlin could only conclude had once belonged to his enormous cousin. The ancient warlock frowned in heavy disapproval over Dudley's behavior about sitting next to Harry; he acted as if the young wizard had some terrible disease. Merlin found himself pitying Harry for the appalling home in which he'd had to live. These muggles were some of the worst he'd seen and that was including his Camelot days.

Waiting for the Dursleys car to pass him, Merlin started the engine and began his pursuit. As he drove, he couldn't help chuckling over the simple fact that he was even driving at all. Automobiles were one of the best inventions muggles had ever come up with. Though he sometimes missed riding in the saddle, Merlin had to admit that going over a hundred miles an hour on smooth asphalt was one of his favorite things to do; which was one of the reasons he lived out in the country.

In his nostalgia, Merlin didn't realize he'd lost sight of the Dursleys until he was halfway to King's Cross. Cursing slightly, the warlock refocused on his task and reached the station just in time to see Mr. Dursley and Harry walking inside. Relieved, Merlin left the busy parking lot and found a fairly abandoned street. Parking the Porsche, he stepped onto the sidewalk, checked to make sure no one was watching, and magicked the car back to his garage in Devon. Grinning, Merlin shoved his hands into the pockets of his brown jeans, changed his appearance to that of a fifteen year old, and headed back to the station.

The place was bustling with people rushing to catch trains to various destinations. Merlin casually approached the barrier between platforms nine and ten and kept his pace, stepping through the wall into the secret doorway that revealed platform nine and three-quarters. The smoke from the scarlet steam engine hung over the heads of hundreds of people gathered on the platform. Cats wound their way through people's legs while owls hooted in their cages. Merlin smiled at the scene, happy to see so many young witches and wizards excited to learn and practice magic. The world definitely had changed since his time.

"Arlin!"

Merlin turned around to see his good friend, Henry Elhart, waving merrily from one of the windows. Perenelle could be seen just behind him, flashing a wide smile. Merlin grinned, waving to Henry before finding the nearest opening to board the train. Once inside, he counted down the compartments until he found the right one, gently opening the door and sliding inside.

"It's crazy out there," he complained, happy to be away from the hustle and bustle.

"What did you expect?" Henry grinned. "There are always those overly emotional parents wanting to see their first years down to the very last second."

"Henry, you were about to fall out the window saying goodbye to your own folks," Caroline Crown voiced with a roll of her light blue eyes.

Henry blushed. "I was not."

Merlin and Perenelle shared a look of amusement before settling down in their compartment. They'd have to report with the other prefects in a few minutes but that didn't mean they couldn't enjoy a little bit of time with their best mates.

Merlin and Perenelle had met Henry and Caroline on their first day in their first year – this time around, at least. Henry was a half-blood, with brown hair, dark eyes, and a rather cheery soul. He loved his family to the core, his parents humble folks that raised their son and his younger sister, Etta, with good moral principles. Caroline was a muggleborn, the only witch in a family of seven, with blue eyes and blonde curls. She was number five in the lineup and, though different from her brothers and sisters, her entire family was thrilled when she got her letter. Her parents were grateful to have an explanation for all the strange things that happened during her childhood and supported her immensely in getting the best magical education that she could; both of them worked for the muggle government.

"Did you two have a good summer?" Henry asked to change the subject.

"It was pretty uneventful," Merlin lied, "We got together a couple times but for the most part I was off with my family in the country while Nellie was on vacation in France."

"Oh, I am so jealous!" Caroline cried. "You go to France every summer!"

Perenelle smiled. "Well, it helps when you have a grandmother who lives there."

"Maybe you can take me with you next time?"

Merlin and Perenelle shared a quick glance before the latter muttered, "Maybe."

"So, now that we're fifth years, can you guys be more open in your relationship or is that still a secret?" asked Caroline with a grin.

Perenelle lightly shoved her. "We've been dating since third year, Caroline."

"Yeah, and although practically everyone in Ravenclaw Tower knows that, nobody has actually ever seen you two do anything besides study together," Henry said with a frown.

"I'm alright with being more open if Nellie is," Merlin grinned.

Perenelle rolled her eyes. "You were the one pushing to keep things on the down low, Arlin."

"Then allow me to make up for it," Merlin said before kissing her.

" _Oy!_ Find a broom closet or something!" Henry complained while Caroline happily smirked.

"If it'll make you feel better, Arlin and I have to go to the front of the train anyway," said Perenelle, not even the least bit bothered that Merlin had kissed her so openly.

"Wait – are you two…?"

"The new Ravenclaw Prefects? Yep," Merlin confirmed.

"Excellent!" Henry grinned. "Congrats, mate."

"Thanks. Well, we'd better go and find out who the other prefects are. See you guys later."

Exiting the compartment, Merlin immediately slipped his hand into Perenelle's. His wife rolled her eyes but she was grinning.

"You always get so eager when fifth year starts."

"Of course!" Merlin declared loudly before whispering, "Keeping things from others can be really hard, Nellie, especially when I have to pretend I don't romantically like you for two years. And even then it's not satisfying because we have to keep our relationship private for two more years before we can finally come out in the open. Those first four years are torturous."

"You're the one that set the ground rules. I was fine with being an open couple at fourteen."

"I know, I know," Merlin grumbled, "it's just that fifteen in the year most children start to really desire the opposite sex. It would be weird if we were dating seriously at eleven years old."

Reaching the front of the train, Merlin pushed the door open to the first compartment to find several people inside including Percy Weasley who was already in his Hogwarts robes with his prefect badge shining from his chest. The redhead's eyes flashed behind his horn-rimmed glasses the second he saw Merlin and the pompous idiot rose to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Arlin Penrys. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see that _you_ made it to prefect status," he said with his nose in the air. "Obviously Dumbledore felt it prudent to make me prefect for my own house."

"Obviously," Merlin sourly replied, "or else I'd have to ask what the heck you were doing in the prefects' compartment."

Several people snickered as Percy's ears turned red.

"Alright, settled down everyone," Silas Reynolds commanded, standing up to address the gathered group. He was a rather large Slytherin with a square cut jaw and a remarkable scowl. "Katy and I have been chosen as Head Boy and Girl this year and we expect the best from you since you're supposed to be model students to your houses. Don't disappoint us."

The "or else" was left unsaid.

Merlin tuned out as Katy Slate went over the rules and regulations they were supposed to follow; he'd been around long enough to know all there was to know about being a prefect. Perenelle was more polite than he was, paying attention and asking a few questions just to blend in. When the meeting was over, Merlin turned to leave but Silas called him back.

"Look, Penrys, I have to ask," - he paused and gestured to Perenelle - "are you two a couple?"

Merlin glanced at his wife. "We are."

Silas frowned. "You're not going to be a problem, are you? Because I need my prefects to be role models in all areas, if you know what I mean."

Merlin tried really hard not to scowl. He was over a thousand years old for crying out loud! He was perfectly capable of being an 'adult' when it came to romantic relationships.

"Trust me, Reynolds, being professional is something Nellie and I are very serious about."

Silas studied him a moment before nodding. "I'll hold you to that."

"I'm sure you will," Merlin muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Silas narrowed his eyes but remained silent. Taking that as his right to leave, Merlin and Perenelle wandered back to their other compartment to join Henry and Caroline in a game of Exploding Snap.

The remaining train ride passed by in a blur – the only interruption being a girl with bushy hair asking if any of them had seen a toad to which they all replied in the negative – and soon Merlin had to forsake his favorite neckwear and shirt for the standard black robes worn by Hogwarts students. The train's five minute warning announcement was given, stating when they would be arriving and instructing the students to leave their trunks and animals behind.

"Looks like the first years will have a clear night," Henry commented as he glanced out the window.

"That's nice," said Caroline, "since the lot of them nearly drowned last year."

Once the train had come to a complete stop, Merlin joined the throngs of students heading for the carriages that would take them up to the school. Petting one of the thestrals, Merlin cringed a little as a few students gasped in shock, seeing the beasts for the first time and asking their friends about them. Merlin had always been able to see them; he'd seen hundreds of people die before the creatures had even been discovered.

Settling inside the carriage with Perenelle, Merlin closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying the magic thriving throughout the village. It would continue to grow tenfold the closer they came to their destination and Merlin was more than ready to be surrounded by magic once more; it seemed to recharge his soul.

After a short wait, the carriage lurched and they were off. A few turns and bumps later and the magnificent castle of Hogwarts appeared, its many windows glowing gold with candlelight and its towers reaching to touch the stars in the heavens.

"It's good to be back," Merlin sighed, lightly squeezing Perenelle's shoulders as he felt the magic in the air wrap around him like a warm comforter.

"Home away from home," she grinned, kissing him on the cheek.

Henry made a gagging sound and Merlin laughed before kissing his sweet wife full on the mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

**To make this story happen there are going to be times I use dialogue right from the book so I want to make it clear I take absolutely ZERO credit for what JK Rowling has already written. I'm just a fan writing about two things that I love. Thank you all for the reviews, as always. I hope you enjoy this next installment.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter or anything I use from the show or the book**

* * *

Chapter 3

Intrusions

* * *

"I'm going to die of hunger."

Merlin glanced at Henry who was looking at his golden plate with longing. Patting his back, the ancient warlock promised, "I'll be sure to attend the funeral. I'll even come with a plateful of shepherd's pie."

"Oh shut up, Arlin," Henry groused, shoving him slightly.

"Cheer up, Henry, the first years will be here any minute," Perenelle assured.

And, sure enough, Professor McGonagall appeared leading a group of frightened children to the front of the Great Hall. Merlin leaned his head against his elbow and let his eyes slowly lose focus, the thousands of candles painting the scene in a soft glow as the enchanted ceiling displayed a beautiful view of the night sky. The Sorting Hat sang another rendition that described the four Hogwarts houses and Perenelle nudged him to participate in applauding with the others when it was finished. The sorting then commenced and Merlin and Perenelle were probably the only ones who didn't freak out when Harry was finally called to try on the hat.

"Harry Potter? As in _the_ Harry Potter?" Henry quietly gasped, craning his neck to get a good look at the small boy who was currently sitting on the stool.

"It has been ten years since he got rid of You Know Who," Caroline muttered, as she too stared at Harry. "I wonder if he remembers… you know…"

"If he does I don't think you should ask," Perenelle advised while Merlin nodded in agreement. "Can you imagine that conversation? 'Excuse me, I was wondering, can you tell me if you remember anything about the night your parents were murdered?'"

Caroline cringed. "Gosh, I didn't think about it like that…"

"I'm sure you're not the only one," Merlin sighed.

The hat took a while to sort Harry but when it did the boy ended up in Gryffindor. Many at the Ravenclaw table groaned in disappointment but Merlin smiled; a lot of great people had come from Gryffindor and that particular house always reminded him of Arthur and the knights.

As the sorting continued, Merlin made sure to pay attention to any first years entering Ravenclaw since it would be his job later to lead them up to Ravenclaw Tower. By the time the Sorting Hat had finished its work, four boys and four girls had joined the Ravenclaw ranks. After Professor McGonagall removed the stool and hat from the hall, Dumbledore stood.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"*

Merlin chuckled as he clapped along with the others just before the table filled with countless dishes of delicious food. The feasts at Hogwarts were twice the size of those in Camelot and while some of the food could never compare to the genius of Mary, Camelot's cook, most of the dinner options were satisfying to Merlin's ancient taste buds. Henry dove into the roast beef, stuffing his mouth so full that he nearly choked on the first swallow. Merlin beat his back a couple of times and his friend flashed him a grateful smile after drinking greedily from his goblet of pumpkin juice.

The conversations around the table varied from favorite Quidditch teams to lessons to interesting things people did over the summer. Merlin enjoyed listening to a thrilling tale by a second year who claimed to have gone on safari with his parents and nearly been eaten by a crocodile. By the time dinner had faded away and dessert had been consumed, the ancient warlock was more than ready to head to bed. Stifling a yawn, he waited for the tables to finally clear which they did, almost as if the house elves below had heard his thoughts.

Dumbledore stood again and the hall fell silent. The usual warning to stay out of the forest was given – with a glance at the Weasley twins at the Gryffindor table – along with the reminder from Mr. Filch to not use magic between classes. Merlin had to hide a snort at this. He never obeyed that rule. It was partially because his magic was instinctive; if it was going to act up on its own to defend him from idiots trying to jinx him in the halls then he wasn't going to stop it.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."*

A few people laughed but Merlin was grateful to see that most of the students took the warning seriously. Even if they were rather confused when the Headmaster gave no reason, they still respected and trusted him.

"I wonder why though," Caroline whispered.

"Do _you_ know?" Henry asked.

"No," Merlin lied. "Why would I?"

"You're a Prefect."

"Just because I'm a Prefect doesn't mean Dumbledore shares his reasons for keeping students from certain places in the castle."

"Yeah, but you and Dumbledore are pretty close," Henry countered.

"Of course we are. For years he's played golf with my father every other weekend in the summer," Merlin hedged, praying for a distraction.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore.

Merlin thanked every star above for the headmaster's timing. Everyone around him groaned, Henry being one of the loudest.

"I hate this part," Caroline muttered.

"I think Arlin is the only student in the school who doesn't," added Henry.

"Not true," Merlin grinned. "The Weasley twins enjoy it too."

"Yeah, well, they're a little mental themselves, aren't they?"

The school started to bellow the song and Merlin joined in, having picked an old folk tune he'd heard many years ago. He was one of the last to finish although the Weasley twins beat him, having chosen a very sluggish funeral march. Dumbledore, as enthusiastic as ever, conducted them until they were finished and then sent everyone to bed.

"Looks like it's time for us to go to work," Perenelle muttered as she rose to her feet. "First years! First year Ravenclaws over here please!"

The eight children gathered around her and Merlin before the two of them headed for the entrance hall. Merlin decided to be the caboose of the group to make sure none of the first years were swept away by the throngs of students heading up the marble staircase. Perenelle did a good job navigating through the sea of black, gently pushing her way through whenever a blockade looked about to form as friends from other houses met up to share a quick word before bed.

After warning the children of the various 'magical pranks' the castle itself liked to pull on the students (like walls pretending to be doors), Perenelle reached the spiral staircase on the fifth floor that led up to their dormitory.

"Now, unlike the other house common rooms that use a password to get in, Ravenclaw Tower requires an answer to a riddle," she explained. "If you fail to guess correctly, you must wait until someone else does."

"What if we're by ourselves?" asked Terry Boot.

"Then you'll be stuck out here until someone shows up or comes out," Merlin answered with a shrug.

"Isn't that sort of cruel?" voiced Padma Patil.

"Magic isn't all about waving your wand and shouting an incantation," Merlin said. "It requires wit – something that many in our world forget to use. Using your intellect will help you solve problems later on down the road. Thinking on my feet has saved me many times over, of that I can assure you."

Perenelle smiled at him before knocking on the door where a single brass knocker of an eagle sat. The eagle's mouth opened and out of the beak came a soft musical voice.

"If I have it, I don't share it. If I share it, I don't have it. What is it?"

Merlin answered immediately, "A secret."

"Correct," said the eagle and the door swung open.

"Welcome to Ravenclaw Tower," said Perenelle.

The Ravenclaw common room was circular with a fantastic view of the mountains outside of arched windows surrounded by blue and bronze silks. The midnight-blue carpet and domed ceiling were accented with stars and bookcases filled with knowledge lined the walls. Comfortable chairs and tables were scattered throughout for lounging and studying and in a niche opposite to the door stood a tall marble white statue of Rowena Ravenclaw.

Merlin glanced at the statue and a sad smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. He'd known the founders personally and had even helped them establish Hogwarts. But he'd emphatically declined having any recognition as a founder and had left the school as soon as it opened. They had been upset at his abrupt departure but none of them faulted him for his decision. Rowena had been a very dear friend and every time he looked at her statue, Merlin experienced the sadness that accompanied loss. This was why he opted for staying mostly in his dorm instead of in the common room. He held the title of being Ravenclaw's resident introvert. Perenelle often joined him in his dormitory but Henry was there too to calm any rumors that tried to circulate.

"Girls follow me," Perenelle said and started for the right where a staircase would take them up to their rooms.

Merlin turned to the boys. "Right, come on then," he said, waving his hand for them to follow him to another staircase.

After making sure they found their room and knew when classes started the next morning, Merlin left them to their own devices and walked back down to the common room to wait for his wife. Sure enough, Perenelle emerged from the staircase and strode over to him. Looping her arms around his neck, she kissed him softly.

"This is one of those rare moments when the common room is empty," Merlin observed as he took a look around.

"The Start of Term Feast usually makes everyone long for sleep," Perenelle grinned.

Merlin leaned in and kissed her again. After the fifth kiss – was it the fifth? He'd lost count – Perenelle gently stepped out of his arms.

"We need to go to bed, Arlin," she said, smirking at his disappointment.

"And so it begins," he grumbled. Cupping her face, he leaned in close and whispered, "This weekend, then, my darling? Seventh floor?"

"I look forward to it," she smiled. "I love you."

"As I love you."

Merlin watched her go until she was out of sight. Letting out a heavy sigh, he turned up the staircase to his own dormitory. That was one of the unfortunate things of pretending to be a student again: he had to get used to sleeping alone.

He shared a dormitory with two other boys besides Henry: Patrick Cole and Jason Bennett. They were good blokes in and of themselves but both had grown up together so they often excluded Merlin and Henry from their interactions. This suited Merlin just fine since he'd never liked being the center of attention anyway. He preferred being in the shadows, doing what was right not for recognition but for the sake of integrity.

Finding that Patrick, Jason, and Henry were already asleep, Merlin tiptoed over to his bed and got into his pajamas before pulling the blue velvet curtains of his four-poster closed. Magicking a sound barrier just in case he had a nightmare about some war he'd been in – this happened on rare occasions – the ancient warlock settled under his thick covers and fell asleep.

[][][]

Merlin was in the middle of consuming a large helping of eggs when Professor Flitwick passed him his schedule. He'd known that fifth year was going to be a nightmare but he wasn't at all thrilled with the schedule line up.

"History of Magic, double Potions, Muggle Studies, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts," Henry read over a mouthful of toast. "Man, and I thought one hour of Snape was bad enough on the first day."

"No kidding," Merlin muttered.

Professor Snape was head of Slytherin House and seemed to hold a grudge against anyone that didn't belong to it. But while most students received snide criticism, Merlin received suspicious glances and rapid questions from the hooked nose professor. This might have been because Merlin was undeniably the best potioneer Snape had ever seen and he couldn't understand how such excellence could be found in a student. Merlin had felt him try to probe into his mind several times but his mental blocks were so strong that the only thing anyone saw when using Legilimens against him was a rat chewing a hole through an expensive boot. He knew this only enraged and intrigued Snape further concerning him but Merlin was not about to disclose his identity. The only one who knew he was an adult in disguise was Albus and he and Perenelle wanted to keep it that way.

Finishing his eggs, Merlin took Perenelle's hand and the two of them headed off to History of Magic. One would think that Magic Incarnate would find this particular subject to be a favorite but, like everyone else, Merlin found it to be quite dull. Perhaps that was because he'd lived through all of it and therefore knew more than just the summaries taught by the droning Professor Binns. The most exciting thing that happened in this class was when the professor arrived by gliding through the chalkboard. Professor Binns had died in his sleep and simply got up to teach the next day, leaving his body behind.

"Is it sad that we attended his class when he was alive and it was just as boring then as it is now?" Merlin quietly whispered as he and his wife took a seat near the middle of the classroom.

Perenelle chuckled. "At least he doesn't recognize us. Do try to pay attention, sweetheart."

"I'm not making any promises, Nellie. I've lived through everything already. I don't need someone else giving an account of what I already know."

Perenelle rolled her eyes. "You say that every year."

The classroom filled and the next hour was spent listening to Giant Wars. Many of their peers took furious notes; Patrick Cole's quill was moving so fast that he was splattering ink all over his face. Merlin didn't even bother picking up a quill, however. Instead he decided to polish his wand. The ancient wood came from a branch of a tree on the Isle of the Blessed – the usual wood used for wands wasn't powerful enough for his magic – and the core was one of Aithusa's scales.

Thinking of the ancient dragon, Merlin smiled. He and Aithusa had come a long way. It had taken about half a century but the dragon had finally decided to reconcile their differences and forgive him for killing Morgana all those years ago. He'd healed her at the Cauldron of Arianrhod, fixing the deformities the Sarrum had bestowed when keeping her and Morgana prisoner. The white dragon had since then developed quite a bit of wisdom, sometimes even presenting sage advice that rivaled what Kilgharrah used to give in Merlin's younger years. Aithusa mostly kept to herself now-a-days since her posterity had made everyone believe dragons were nothing but dumb magical beasts. She came to visit every now and then but the last time Merlin had seen her had been about fifty years ago.

The bell pulled him from his thoughts and the Ravenclaws made their way down to the dungeons for potions class.

Snape came into the room with quite the entrance, his robes billowing behind him as he went on and on about how important O.W.L.'s were and that he didn't expect many of them to make good enough marks to advance to N.E.W.T. level. Merlin tried really hard not to glare when the professor smirked at Henry who was by far one of the worst students to ever grace Potions class. The poor kid just couldn't understand it.

"Today we will be creating a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace," Snape revealed, waving his wand as the instructions appeared on the blackboard. "It is a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. It is not to be taken lightly either. If you are careless with the ingredients, you could cause the drinker to fall into an irreversible sleep. You have been warned. You have an hour and half and everything you need is in the supply cupboard. Start!"

Merlin tried to keep himself from smirking as he wandered into the store cupboard and grabbed all the ingredients without even bothering to read the blackboard. He'd made this particular brew so many times in his life that he could make it in half the time required. Normally the potion called for syrup of hellebore to be added between the powdered moonstone and the powdered porcupine quills but Merlin had discovered if you waited until the end and added all the hellebore after letting the potion simmer for seven minutes, the results were ten times that of the original.

He was finished with his potion in record time and the silver vapor rising from his cauldron was almost blinding in its brilliance. While Perenelle was not as quick as he at potion brewing, she still was able to scrape by without too many mistakes. Merlin did have to save her from adding the powdered unicorn horn instead of the moonstone at one point but other than that she did rather well. Henry, however, was standing next to a cauldron spitting green sparks. Merlin would have tried to salvage the horrible concoction but it was beyond saving. Poor Henry was going to receive bottom marks.

"Finished already, Penrys?"

Merlin looked up to find Snape staring down at him over his large nose, his greasy hair falling over his shoulders as he scrutinized creator and creation.

"How did you do that?" he demanded, pointing at the silver vapor that was swirling in perfect clockwise circles.

Merlin shrugged. "I followed your instructions, professor, nothing more."

"Impossible!" Snape hissed. "Half the class is still in the middle of the mixing process. The only way you could finish this so quickly is if you've brewed it before."

Merlin looked up at him innocently. "This is my first time making it, professor, honest," he lied.

Snape's eyes narrowed to slits. He didn't believe Merlin for a second but instead of harassing him further he merely huffed irritably through his nose and moved on to Henry. Merlin cringed as he berated the boy, stating his potion was worthless before giving him zero marks. At the end of class, Snape demanded everyone who had successfully brewed the potion to bring a small flask to his desk before assigning them an essay about moonstone powder requiring twelve inches of parchment due on Thursday.

Lunch passed by and Merlin went off to Muggle Studies while Perenelle headed for Ancient Runes; they'd decided that they couldn't have all their classes together since they were gossiped about enough as it was. Professor Burbage, the new Muggle Studies teacher since Quirrell had taken over Defense, greeted him with a warm smile and the next hour Merlin actually paid attention because he loved hearing the wizard interpretations of muggle lifestyle. Today they discussed the inner workings of corporate business and by the end were assigned a fourteen inch essay on the subject which was expected to be done by Friday.

After that Merlin met up with Perenelle and the other Ravenclaws for Defense Against the Dark Arts, sitting down near the back and wondering exactly how the lesson would turn out now that Quirrell was teaching. He wasn't the only one to find the professor's new choice in headwear strange; Quirrell had never worn a turban before. He told the class in a stuttering manner that he'd received is as a gift from an African prince for taking care of a zombie. Merlin frowned. Quirrell hadn't stuttered before either.

"Do you think something happened to him during his sabbatical?" he quietly whispered to Perenelle after pointing out the differences to her.

"Maybe," Perenelle answered back. "If anything I believe the rumors about a vampire wanting to attack him. The whole classroom reeks of garlic."

Merlin silently agreed.

Quirrell's lesson turned out to be a huge disappointment to Merlin. He taught more from the textbook, sharing stories of other witches and wizards who had successfully conquered dangerous magical threats. He assigned them homework asking for ten inches of parchment on three effective ways to ward off vampires before dismissing them at the end of class.

"Can you believe how much homework we have already?" Henry complained as they made their way down to dinner. "It's only Monday and we haven't even gone to Charms, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, or Astronomy!"

Caroline flicked his forehead. "Those are tomorrow and Wednesday, dumb-dumb."

"I know that!" Henry groused, rubbing the offended spot. "But they're going to assign us homework too! My hand is going to fall off before the end of this week!"

"If you stay on top of it, you should be fine, Henry," Merlin encouraged.

"You've always managed to stay ahead of homework, Arlin, but I think this is the year you're going to be struggling just like the rest of us," Henry grumbled, as they entered the Great Hall for dinner.

Merlin shook his head, grinning.

There was no way he was going to let homework get in his way even if it was O.W.L. year. He had personal time with Perenelle, prefect duties, and protecting the stone to keep him plenty occupied. This was why he was going to do his homework behind the curtains of his four-poster, where he could cheat by dictating to a quill what he wanted to say – why bother writing things down when his magic could do it for him? He'd written all of the required essays countless times at different schools in the past so the words were already in his head. Perenelle was probably going to do the same thing as him; that's how they'd stayed on top of their homework before. Why change something that had worked for more than six hundred years?

[][][]

By Friday the Ravenclaw fifth years were up to their elbows in homework. Most of them were locked away in the common room surrounded by mounds of textbooks, ink, and parchment. Merlin was up in his dormitory, as usual, but instead of working on homework, he was playing with the wooden dragon figurine his father had made him centuries ago. Over the years he'd learned to enchant it, bringing it to life, if you will, merely to entertain himself. It was still made of wood but it could fly and it breathed woodchips instead of fire – a rather painful attack if caught in the crossfire. Merlin had named him Nogard.

Nogard was currently trying to chew on Merlin's pillow, having become bored with chasing the ball of light the warlock had conjured for a game of fetch. The door to the dormitory opened and Merlin's eyes flashed behind his glasses, causing Nogard to immediately change back into the innocent figurine he was before.

"Hi honey," Perenelle said after checking that the room was empty. "Everyone else is slaving away downstairs so I figured you'd be up here doing the same."

"I finished my last essay an hour ago," Merlin confessed, animating Nogard once more.

"Hey Nogard," Perenelle laughed as the dragon swirled around her wrist and settled in her palm. "I haven't seen you since last year. Wow, you _must_ be bored, Merlin."

"I am," he admitted. "The curriculum is boring, Nellie."

"It always is to you," she smiled, petting Nogard absentmindedly.

"So, what brings you up here? Have you also finished your essays?"

"Yes but I thought you'd be interested in this morning's Daily Prophet."

She handed the paper to him and Merlin read the front page with a frown. It was reporting the latest concerning the Gringotts break in.

"Nothing that we hadn't suspected before, then," he muttered, handing it back to her. "Except we know it was Voldemort."

"Well, we suspect it was," she clarified, "but you're probably right. At least the goblins are keeping things under wraps."

"That's because they know who they'll have to deal with if they don't."

Perenelle frowned slightly before suddenly surprising Merlin with a kiss on the cheek. He raised a curious eyebrow.

"It's the weekend," she said, her eyes darkening. "Meet me on the Seventh Floor in about fifteen minutes?"

Merlin's grin could rival the sun it was so bright. Returning the smile, Perenelle left. Merlin immediately froze Nogard and threw open his trunk in search of his cologne. After emptying what seemed half the contents, he found the bottle and applied a small amount before glancing at his watch. Ten minutes to go. Using magic to throw all his things back into the trunk, he snapped the lid shut and transported down to the kitchens. The house elves were most pleased to see him and after a round of bows and exclamations of "Emrys", Merlin had a nice dinner for two and a bottle of wine which he brought with him to the seventh floor (through another transport spell of course).

Checking his watch again, he noted that he had three minutes before Perenelle arrived. Walking back and forth in front of the desired wall, a door magically appeared and Merlin stepped inside. The inner chamber was similar to those back in Camelot. A handsome bed sat against the wall with a thick red comforter while a dining table and a large tub already filled with steaming water rested on the far side of the room. Several candelabras were lit throughout the space.

Merlin set up the dinner he'd brought and had just added the finishing touches to the table – a bouquet of wild flowers – when there was a soft knock on the door. Double-checking that the room was perfect, Merlin hastened to the door and opened it a crack. Perenelle smiled back at him and the warlock threw open the door to let her in. His wife spun around and kissed him the moment the door was closed.

"Oh, Merlin, it's perfect!"

"I thought we'd skip dinner with everyone else," he smiled as he removed his fake glasses and set them on the table.

"We've done it before," she chuckled. "I'm sure the others won't worry too much as to where we've run off to."

"Let's hope not," Merlin said as they sat down, "because I don't think I'm going to let you go back to Ravenclaw Tower tonight."

"Hmmm, it's a good thing it's the weekend then," she muttered before taking a sip of wine from her glass.

"Don't tempt me, dear, or no one will see you until Monday."

"Now that sounds inviting but, alas, I have to be the smart one and say no. We wouldn't want rumors to start, now would we?"

"No we wouldn't," Merlin sighed, silently disappointed. "Too bad the summer's over."

"Hey, give it two more years and you'll have me all to yourself again."

"A day I greatly look forward to."

"You're not the only one."

The two shared a smile before starting a rather romantic evening that left them both rather happy the next day when they returned to Ravenclaw Tower.

[][][]

It was Thursday and Merlin was more than looking forward to tomorrow when he could whisk Perenelle off to the Prefect's bathroom for a midnight romance.

Last Friday had been wonderful but the warlock was becoming rather restless, denying himself _again_ from creating a distraction so he could cart his wife off to the nearest broom closet. It didn't help that she'd decided to wear a remarkably wonderful perfume today that was driving him crazy.

Professor Flitwick was going over Summoning Charms – something Merlin had mastered when he wasn't even a year old. Forcing his hand into the pocket of his robe so it wouldn't travel to Perenelle's thigh, Merlin inwardly groaned and focused his thoughts on nonsensical things like polishing boots and sewing stitches into damaged tunics. He eventually became so attentive in these thoughts that he nearly fell out of his chair when Professor McGonagall suddenly interrupted class.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Flitwick nodded his consent. "Of course, Minerva. Weasley, make sure to catch him up on what he misses."

Percy puffed out his chest. "Yes, professor."

His heart having returned to normal, Merlin rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Teacher's pet," he whispered loud enough for several to hear.

"Arlin," Perenelle quietly admonished as Percy glared at him while others softly sniggered.

"Wonder what McGonagall wanted," Merlin mused ignoring Percy completely as Flitwick returned to his lecture.

"No idea. It isn't like her to interrupt a class."

No, indeed it wasn't. Merlin entertained the thought of creating a false image of himself so he could snoop around but thought better of it; performing such advanced magic in this kind of setting would bring him nothing but trouble. Sighing, he cast the personal amusement of spying aside and returned to daydreaming about the past while Professor Flitwick droned on and on.

Wood returned near the end of Flitwick's lecture with a remarkable grin on his face and Merlin wasn't the only one to raise a curious eyebrow. The Gryffindor Quidditch Captain looked like Christmas had come early; he was practically skipping. Merlin listened in as Percy tried to wiggle out the source of Wood's delight.

Wood shook his head and muttered, "It's a surprise, Percy. You'll see."

Merlin wondered what this surprise could be. _Should I read his mind?_ He silently debated for a moment before shrugging his shoulders _. Why not? It might actually be something interesting_.

What he found left him both surprised and amused.

Harry Potter, the new Gryffindor seeker? First years hadn't been selected for the house teams in a century.

 _Hmmm… McGonagall must be getting desperate to win the cup if she's recruiting first years. Harry must be good._

Of course Wood would be excited about Quidditch. Anything to do with the sport left the youth's eyes glazed over with joy. Merlin smothered a chuckle and when Perenelle asked him why he was smiling, he shook his head.

"I'll tell you later," he said before adding in a whisper, "I don't want to ruin Wood's surprise."

"You read his mind!" she hissed disapprovingly.

"I was bored," Merlin shrugged.

His wife rolled her eyes. "Only you, Arlin."

Merlin grinned.

[][][]

Later that night, Merlin was on his bed working on an essay for Professor McGonagall when a flash of fire interrupted him. Nogard, formerly chewing lightly on his socks, growled at the sudden burst of magic. Thankful that no one else had seen the phoenix flame, Merlin snatched the parchment that had emerged from the fire to read Dumbledore's loopy scrawl.

 _Nicolas,_

 _Meet me tonight at a quarter to midnight, if you can. I have news._

 _Albus_

Merlin glanced at the clock. He had about an hour. Returning to his essay, he tried to concentrate but it was proving difficult. Just what had Albus found out? Was the stone okay? Had Voldemort attempted to get into the school?

Merlin glanced at Henry. The kid had passed out an hour ago from exhaustion, his light snores ruffling the parchment scattered around his head. Merlin waved his hand and cleared the mess, stacking the boy's homework on his bedside dresser. A few minutes later Patrick and Jason appeared and Merlin made sure to freeze and hide Nogard under his pillow before returning to his essay.

"Still hard at work, Arlin?" Jason asked. "Out of everyone I would have thought you'd be caught up."

"Oh, I'm working on McGonagall's essay."

"The one she just gave us today?" Patrick said in surprise. "Man, I haven't even touched the summary Kettleburn wants on bowtruckles and he gave us that three days ago! How do you do it?"

Merlin shrugged. "I guess I just really like studying."

"I've said it before, you're one weird egg, Penrys," muttered Jason.

"Thanks," Merlin said with a goofy grin, deciding to take this as a compliment.

Jason and Patrick dressed for bed and Merlin made sure to shut the curtains of his four-poster before conjuring a ball of light to float above his head so he could continue to write his essay. At half past eleven, he gave it up as a bad job. Snuffing out his natural light, Merlin slipped out from behind the curtains of his four-poster and tiptoed towards the door.

The common room was empty, the dim glow of night reaching pitifully through the windows as the ancient warlock crept across the carpeted floor to the door. Striding confidently down the spiral staircase, Merlin made it out into the main part of the castle and half way to Dumbledore's office when he was stopped by a rather incensed Professor Snape.

"Penrys! What are you doing sneaking around the corridors at this hour?"

"I would ask the same of you, professor, but since you probably won't answer me, why should I answer you?"

Snape's face contorted with rage. "You dare –"

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see me," Merlin interrupted.

"Why on earth would the headmaster want to see a student in the middle of the night?"

Merlin shrugged. "I'm not one to question the professor's brilliant mind. If you'd like, you can ask him yourself, sir."

Snape's lip began to curl. "I have half a mind to throw you in detention for your cheek, Penrys! Ten points from Ravenclaw."

Merlin wasn't at all fazed by the loss. House points really didn't mean anything to him; when you've lived for as long as he had, such competitions held little to no interest.

"Shall I be on my way, then?" he asked with a smile.

Snape scowled, clearly upset that his deduction hadn't dented Merlin's cheerful countenance whatsoever.

"By all means, let me escort you," he said sourly.

Merlin shrugged and headed off. Whether Snape accompanied him or not, it didn't make much difference. He wasn't going to get in trouble so he had nothing to fear. Well, Snape could always change his mind and give him a detention but Merlin wouldn't have minded. Anything out of the boring routine of sitting in classes would be fine with him. Why had he decided to come back to school again? Oh yeah, because staying at home doing nothing would be more of a bore than sitting in classes he'd already taken dozens of times.

They reached the stone gargoyle and Snape spat the password before the two ascended the spiral staircase. Smirking at Merlin, Snape rapped the knocker before pushing the door open.

"Inside," he hissed.

"With pleasure, sir," Merlin said.

Dumbledore looked up from the book he was reading with an inquiring eyebrow. "Severus, I thought you'd just left."

"I had, headmaster, but I fear I caught Mr. Penrys out of bed after hours. He claims he was on his way to see you."

Dumbledore's eyes filled with amusement as Merlin rolled his eyes beside the irate Potions Master.

"Indeed, I did send for him, Severus. I have prefect matters to discuss with Mr. Penrys that specifically concern his house. Thank you for escorting him safely to my office. You may go."

Snape looked like he'd just swallowed a whole handful of lemon drops. Making sure to glare angrily at Merlin, he twisted on his heel and left the room, his cloak billowing behind him. Merlin waited for the door to slam shut before crossing the room and dropping comfortably into the chair opposite the headmaster's.

"He gets worse every year, Albus," he complained, rubbing his temples.

"Indeed but one simple explanation would help ease the tension between you two."

Merlin scowled and shook his head. "I don't want anyone knowing the truth, Albus. We discussed this."

Dumbledore sighed. "I know. However, out of all my teachers, I would say that Severus is the most suspicious. Your magical skill is simply too exemplary for him – or the others, frankly – to ignore."

"I'm trying to not draw attention but it's kind of hard when you've lived for centuries and magic has become as natural to you as breathing," Merlin grumbled before forcefully changing the subject, "Now, what's this news you have?"

Dumbledore sent him a disapproving glance before straightening back in his chair. "Severus confessed to me tonight that he has been feeling the occasional presence of Lord Voldemort in the castle since the start of term."

" _WHAT?!"_

Several portraits on the wall flinched but Merlin ignored them.

"He's in the castle? _How?"_

Dumbledore shook his head. "I am just as troubled by this news as you are, Nicolas. Thankfully the third floor corridor remains undisturbed which leads me to believe that Voldemort has yet to find where the stone is hiding."

Merlin stood up and began pacing; it was a habit he'd fallen into since Arthur's death after becoming Gwen's Court Sorcerer.

"We can't station guards outside the door," he murmured aloud, "since that would draw too much attention to it. Perhaps I could set up an alarm spell?"

"Voldemort would not be fool enough to fall for such a trap," Dumbledore voiced. "He would deactivate the spell the moment he came in contact with its trace. This is why I haven't placed any such enchantments outside the door already."

"Of course," Merlin sighed, biting his tongue.

Voldemort wouldn't be able to trace an _ancient_ enchantment but Dumbledore couldn't know about that. Once again Merlin regretted not telling him the whole truth about himself.

"How's your personal defense coming along then?" he asked instead.

"I'm getting closer but it is not yet ready," the headmaster regretfully confessed. "I am sorry, Nicolas. I ask for a little more time."

"I hope whatever you're doing will be as effective as you're promising, Albus," Merlin ground out, trying to keep his patience.

The stone was just sitting in the middle of the chamber on the floor, after all, and Voldemort was now roaming freely through the castle! This did not sit well with him one bit!

"It will be, old friend. Trust me."

Merlin froze at the words 'old friend'. Forcing aside the image of a king in chainmail extending a hand towards him in a red tent, the ancient warlock shook his head and returned to the present.

"I do trust you, Albus. What do you suggest we do about this newest development for the time being?"

Dumbledore threaded his long fingers together and frowned in thought. Merlin thought as well, trying to come up with different ways to catch the dark wizard traipsing through a school of innocent children. After a few minutes of silent brainstorming, Dumbledore cleared his throat to regain the ancient warlock's attention.

"I may have an idea," he declared, his eyes beginning to twinkle.

Merlin's worried frown transformed into a sly grin. "I know that look. What are you plotting?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "It would have to be entirely convincing – Voldemort wouldn't fall for anything less –"

"What are you rambling on about?" Merlin interrupted.

Dumbledore got right to the point. "Our ultimate goal is to catch and destroy Voldemort, correct?"

"Yes?"

"And we know he's after the stone."

"Yes…?"

"What if we created a _fake_ Sorcerer's Stone and lured Voldemort into a trap?"

"You mean allow him to get past Fluffy and all the other enchantments without doing anything?" Merlin asked in shock.

"We'll have to play our part, of course, make it look like we're trying to stop him–"

"When in reality we'll be two steps ahead," Merlin grinned. "Brilliant, Albus! That way we can detain him in the chamber away from the students and the stone will remain safely out of his grasp!"

"Can you create a replica that will be convincing enough to fool him?" Dumbledore pressed.

"I should be able to."

Dumbledore expressed his first expression of doubt. "Nicolas, you told me it took you many years to create the stone. This copy has to be almost _identical_ to it or Voldemort will not be fooled."

Merlin grinned. "It's your turn to trust me, Albus. I'll be able to do it."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and nodded. "Alright… once you've successfully made a false stone, we'll switch the two. I'll continue to work on my extra protection – if there wasn't an enchantment from me then Voldemort would be highly suspicious of subterfuge."

"We'll have to make sure we arrive in the chamber before he realizes he's been deceived though," Merlin warned. "We don't want him slipping away again."

"Agreed. We will know when he makes his move thanks to Severus. I'll be sure to inform you of anything he tells me concerning Voldemort's future movements."

Merlin nodded and stood up, sensing their meeting was over. "The switching of the Stones will be known only to me, you, and Nellie. I don't want anyone else getting involved."

Dumbledore frowned a bit but understood the need for tighter security. The reason Voldemort was here in the first place was because too many people knew of the original plan.

"Alright, Nicolas. I'll look forward to seeing the replica."

"Don't worry, Albus, I'll have it made up by Christmas," Merlin promised. "I don't think Voldemort will try anything this soon in the school year. He'll probably wait until everyone has relaxed into the same routine before making any kind of move."

"He still has to find the location of the stone, after all," Dumbledore added. "I think Christmas is a worthy goal. I should have my protection finished around then too."

"Excellent," Merlin praised before glancing at his wristwatch. "It's getting late. I should probably be heading off to bed."

"Indeed, but I do have one question for you, before you go."

Merlin waited and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"How are you enjoying being a prefect?"

Merlin's eyes slightly narrowed. "I thought you supported inter-house relationships, Albus."

Dumbledore grinned. "Oh, I am the biggest advocate for such things."

"In this particular case I feel you're lying through your teeth, but, since you asked, being a prefect has some advantages – like taking one's wife to the prefect's bathroom. Thanks for that."

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye grew even more. "You're most welcome. I would caution you not to become lax in your surroundings, however …"

"Albus," Merlin admonished, "you know I would never allow anyone to discover such things. We wouldn't want to scar the children for life now, would we?"

Grinning at the amused headmaster, Merlin inclined his head and took his leave. Once back in the main corridor, he decided it wouldn't hurt to check on the third floor – just in case.

He made it to the fourth floor when he overheard Filch talking to Snape about students being out of bed in a corridor he'd almost turned down. Quickly and quietly backtracking – he didn't want to give Snape another reason to escort him anywhere else – Merlin took a different route to the third floor. A flight of stairs and a couple hidden passages behind tapestries led him straight to his destination. Hastening to the right, he reached the door hiding Fluffy and the trapdoor he was guarding.

Merlin's eyes widened in alarm. The spell that usually kept the door locked had been removed!

Yanking the door open, Merlin hastened inside but nearly got his arm torn off by a very angry Fluffy. The dog was wide awake, his three heads barking like mad and his giant paws pounding the stone floor as he tried to kill his new prey. Merlin ran out of harm's way before spinning around and throwing out his hand.

" _ **Smyltnes!"**_ he commanded, his eyes burning gold behind his glasses.

Being a creature of the Old Religion, the giant dog instantly obeyed and stopped his attack, his fierce growls being replaced by loud whines as he lay down. Merlin stepped away from the wall and walked up to Fluffy's middle head.

"There, there, my friend," he soothed, rubbing the beast's cheek. "You're alright. Now who dared disturb your slumber, hmmm? I see you did a good job keeping them out. Yes, you did. That's a good boy."

Fluffy started panting happily, his eyes half closed as Merlin started to scratch under his middle chin. After a while he stepped back and assessed the giant beast.

"Was the intruder anyone we need to be concerned about?" he asked.

Fluffy shook his three heads in unison.

Merlin nodded. "Alright, I trust you. I'll check on you once in a while, alright? I'm sure Hagrid comes to visit."

The dog barked once from each head, his tail happily wagging. Merlin chuckled.

"I'll take that as a yes. Okay, I'll let you go back to guarding the entrance. I'm locking the door again, alright?"

The dog's triple whine gave him pause as he crossed the room and Merlin looked back sympathetically.

"I know you want to get out and run around but we need you here, Fluffy. You have a very important job to do and I trust that you'll do it better than anyone."

The dog sat up on its haunches, its three heads lifting with pride as it barked once.

Merlin smiled. "I knew I could count on you. Here, a reward for doing so well tonight."

He waved his hand and three huge raw steaks appeared – one for each head. The dog barked three times in happiness before it started attacking its dinner. Merlin shook his head in fondness before hastily exiting, locking the door the moment it was closed. He had to make sure to use a modern spell so no one would suspect the door had been tampered with; besides, they wanted Voldemort to find the stone's hiding place now – well, not until Christmas but still…

Wondering who might have tried to get past Fluffy, Merlin made a note to tell Dumbledore of the incident in the morning before hastening to bed; the last thing he wanted was to be caught in the third floor corridor by Severus Snape.

* * *

*Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, chapter seven The Sorting Hat

Spell translation: Calm!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter**

* * *

Chapter 04

Villages and Highlands

* * *

Merlin and Perenelle quickly but quietly made their way down to the prefect's bathroom. It was kind of late but Merlin hadn't wanted to chance stumbling upon any other prefects using the facility. They had almost reached the appointed hall when Peeves the Poltergeist whizzed around the corner with his hands dusted with chalk. He stopped abruptly at the sight of them and when his wicked eyes landed on Merlin, they filled with silent apprehension.

"Why, if it isn't the immortal one," he greeted, laying out on his side and crossing his legs. "It's late, it is. What could you be doing at this hour, hmmm? Should I turn you in? Should I let you go?"

"If you make even a hint of noise, Peeves, I'll turn you into a toad for a week," Merlin seriously warned.

Peeves swallowed. "I was only joking, sir, only joking."

"I'm sure you were, Peeves," Perenelle said more gently. "We'd appreciate if you kept your silence."

Peeves looked at them before letting out a sigh and standing upright in the air. "I'll just be on my way then." The poltergeist twisted on his heel but then he whipped around. "Are you still not going to tell us who you really are?"

Merlin smiled. "I'm afraid not though I'd love to hear the theories you and the others have come up with this time."

"You wouldn't confirm any of them anyway so why bother."

Merlin chuckled. "You're right; I wouldn't."

Peeves looked like he'd had something unpleasant under his nose as he sniffed, "You're no fun, Merryn."

"Good night, Peeves."

The poltergeist scowled before disappearing through the nearest wall. Merlin sighed, caught up in temporary nostalgia.

He hadn't been called Merryn in a long time. That was the name he'd gone by when he'd first met the Founders. Peeves, occupying the castle shortly after the school opened, had therefore known him as such. The Gray Lady and the Bloody Baron, too, knew him by this name. The rest of the ghosts, however, knew him by others, so it was quite the debate on who he really was. None of them had ever guessed the truth but even those who had been at Hogwarts when it first opened didn't think his name was really Merryn either. His identity had become a game and Merlin was slightly amused by it all.

"I wonder what they'll do when they find out who you really are," Perenelle mused as they entered the bathroom.

"You mean _if_ ," he clarified, walking over to the gigantic rectangular pool and turning on several of the jeweled taps. "They've been guessing for years, Nellie, and none of them have ever come close to the truth."

"Well, it would be a little hard to believe that the great Merlin Emrys still walks among men."

Merlin sent her a look of amusement. "And yet you believed that."

Perenelle shrugged. "I had a little help."

"Ah, yes, sneaking into my house and reading my journal while I was grocery shopping," Merlin mused as he grabbed a few white towels from the corner and placed them near the pool's edge.

"I was concerned when you didn't answer the door!" she defended. "And both of us know that I was rather transfixed concerning you anyway. Of course I was going to read your journal! You left it wide open for the whole world to see!"

"The one time I left my door unlocked… what had I been thinking?"

Perenelle grinned, walking over to him and slipping her arms around his torso. "You weren't and I'm glad. I knew there was something different about you and when I found out the truth, it was bittersweet. Knowing you've lived so long, all alone… I'm glad I could take some of the pain away."

Merlin gently kissed her. "You've been the best thing that has happened to me since…"

Sensing his distress, Perenelle leaned up and kissed him. Locking the door and covering the mermaid portrait on the wall with his magic, Merlin's melancholy thoughts disappeared as fingers shoved fabric aside in order to trail across bare skin. Once every hint of clothing had been removed, the warlock happily lifted his wife and carried her into the water for a very romantic bubble bath.

The prefect's bathroom filled with the sounds of laughter and bliss as the happy couple enjoyed each other and the special union only they shared. After a time, they found themselves satisfied and both settled against the side of the large pool to relax.

"I've missed this room," Perenelle sighed.

Merlin glanced around at the white marble walls and the large candle-filled chandelier above their heads. "It's rather grand, isn't it? Although, I think the diving board is a little ostentatious."

"I know a few prefects who love that feature! But I think I have to agree with you."

"I also don't know how I feel about a portrait being in here."

"She's asleep eighty percent of the time," Perenelle defended.

"And what about the other twenty? You might not mind but I'm not too thrilled about the idea of a mermaid watching me bathe."

"It's not like she's going to swim into other portraits and gossip."

"I'd still rather cover her up than take a chance."

"Which is why you magicked the curtains to hide her instead of the windows?"

"We're on the fifth floor, Nellie. I'm more concerned about peeping portraits than peeping toms."

Perenelle laughed before she let out a sigh.

Sensing her change of mood, Merlin pulled her closer to his chest and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I'm just a little confused about this false stone you and Albus want to create. I thought Harry Potter was supposed to defeat Voldemort?"

"He is but that doesn't mean he can't have a little help along the way. What Snape has been sensing is only a part of Voldemort. Remember what I told you about the horcrux theory?"

"It's been confirmed?"

Merlin frowned. "No but luring Voldemort out and seeing what he's become for myself will help me know if that's what he's done. Besides, I should be able to hold him off if he tries anything."

She let out a deep sigh. "Just be careful. I know you're the most powerful warlock to ever walk the earth but Grindelwald proved that modern dark wizards can be just as powerful as the ones you faced in the past. He nearly killed you, Merlin. If you weren't who you are, you would have died."

Merlin thought back to that dark day with a heavy frown. It had been when Grindelwald had raised an army of followers and ruthlessly attacked countless muggle and magical communities. Merlin could no longer stand idly by. He'd confronted Grindelwald and the two had a rather heated battle. The only reason Merlin had been hit by one of the evil wizard's curses was because Grindelwald had aimed it at a ten year old boy who'd stumbled upon their duel. Defending the lad, Merlin was left bleeding in the streets while Grindelwald escaped. Merlin was found later by authorities and shortly after the incident Dumbledore decided to confront his former friend resulting in Grindelwald's defeat.

Merlin squeezed Perenelle gently. "Voldemort isn't at his full strength anymore."

"Even so…"

"I'll be careful," he promised, kissing her forehead.

A moment passed before Perenelle suggested getting out and heading to bed. Merlin agreed and the two exited the large pool. After drying each other off with a charm, they dressed, shared one more kiss, and drained the pool before exiting the bathroom. Merlin took Perenelle's hand and they started walking back to Ravenclaw Tower while keeping an eye out for any prowling teachers.

"Do you think we should check on Fluffy again?" Perenelle asked when they were halfway to their destination. "I know that you saw him last night but the door _was_ open…"

"I'm fairly certain some overly curious students were behind that," Merlin replied. "I wouldn't be surprised if it was Fred and George Weasley; those two are always stirring up some kind of mischief."

"They really seem to like you, you know," Perenelle smiled as Merlin answered the riddle that would let them enter the Ravenclaw common room.

"I know," he grinned, "though I can't imagine why they would, given my relationship with their brother."

"You helped them out with a couple of pranks in their first year. I'm fairly certain that's the reason."

"Well, how was I to say no when I caught them trying to break into Filch's office with a niffler in hand? Or when they needed someone to distract Professor Snape so they could switch out the shampoo he uses for car oil? Those pranks were priceless!"

Perenelle swatted his arm. "You may deny it but there is a part of you that possesses a penchant for trouble."

Merlin shrugged. "Making people laugh is worth it, Nellie. Now, we'd best get to bed – don't want Silas getting wind of us being bad model students and all…"

Perenelle chuckled before bidding him goodnight with a spellbinding kiss. "See you in the morning, sweetheart," she smiled.

Merlin grinned and they parted ways.

[][][]

Three weeks later Merlin woke to find the Ravenclaw common room packed with students surrounding the notice board.

"What's going on?" he wondered as he joined Perenelle, Caroline, and Henry behind a group of third years.

"First Hogsmeade weekend!" Caroline answered with glee. "I can finally start my Christmas shopping!"

"It isn't even Halloween yet," Henry said, perplexed.

"Don't remind me!" Caroline grumbled. "I hate waiting this late in the season to get everything ready. Do you know how many siblings I have to get presents for? Since I'm the only witch in the family my presents have to be the best – they expect them to be, after all, since magic is involved. Mom specifically told me that I needed to send home at least three cases of butterbeer this year! Do you know how expensive that's going to be even with owl post? I can't afford to wait until Christmas to get everything done!"

Henry shook his head. "I will never understand you. What do you want to do in Hogsmeade, Arlin? Visit Zonko's? The Three Broomsticks? Oh! Maybe Honeydukes?"

"He's probably going to want to take Nellie to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop," Caroline smirked.

Merlin was insulted by the very thought. "Just because we're openly dating doesn't mean I need to take Nellie to that infernal place. It's overrated anyway."

"How would you know? You haven't been inside already, have you?" asked Henry.

"Please, looking through the window was enough to make even _me_ vomit," Nellie shuttered. "The Hog's Head is even better than there."

The four shared a round of laughter. The Hog's Head had a reputation for serving questionable folk even though Merlin liked going there to visit Aberforth, Dumbledore's younger brother.

Around noon Merlin joined the rest of the excited students heading to the village. Bundled in a thick red scarf, the warlock thrust his hands into the pocket of his brown coat and braved the wind whipping the loose leaves along the ground. Perenelle was beside him, her petite form wrapped up in a warm blue pea coat. Her caramel hair fell loosely around her shoulders, the top of her head covered in a black hat.

They reached the charming village of Hogsmeade a few minutes later, the shops sporting the festivities of fall. Pumpkins resting on hay bales displayed a variety of faces in windows decorated with gold and orange leaves. Zonko's even had an animated scarecrow that was tap dancing, scattering pieces of its innards about the road as it tried to entice customers to come inside.

Caroline separated from the group the second she saw Gladrags Wizardwear and Henry expressed his longing to go to Spintwitches Sporting Needs to check out the Nimbus Two Thousand they had advertised in the window. Merlin and Perenelle decided to leave their friends to their own devices, making plans to meet up at the Three Broomsticks in two hours. Now alone, the couple headed to the Hog's Head.

The establishment was rather pitiful, the rusty sign above the door displaying the severed head of a hog that was bleeding onto a white cloth surrounding it. Despite this, Merlin and Perenelle happily went inside. Dirt and grime had collected in the windows and stone floor for years, making it impossible for the sun to properly penetrate through the glass and light the dim atmosphere within. The place was one solid room and smelled like goats, Aberforth himself standing behind the bar rubbing a glass with a dirty rag as he talked to an older gentleman that Merlin recognized at once.

"Newt? What are you doing here?"

Newt turned around, his old face lifting into a grin at the sight of them. "Nick! Perenelle! Good to see you!"

Merlin cheerfully shook his hand. "And you. Hi, Abe."

"Nicolas," Aberforth nodded to him, his gruff voice softening a bit.

Aberforth may not have the best relationship with his brother but Merlin had no trouble getting along with either of them. Though younger and not as clever as Albus, Aberforth was a powerful wizard in his own right and rather crafty when he needed to be. Many plots had been thwarted during the first wizarding war because of conversations he'd overheard in his pub. This was one of the reasons he'd let the place go as far as it had; people tended to blab more when in a relaxed atmosphere.

"So what brings you here?" Merlin asked Newt as Aberforth gave Perenelle a rare smile and kissed her hand.

"The ministry has asked me to look into something," Newt answered while Merlin accepted the butterbeer Aberforth handed to him.

"I thought you were retired," said Perenelle.

"That's what I said," muttered Aberforth, "but apparently the ministry's current Magizoologists are idiots and can't do their job."

Newt shifted on his barstool. "They're not idiots, Aberforth. They just don't currently have anyone available that can speak troll."

"Why not just call in a linguistic?" Merlin wondered.

"None of them were comfortable with the idea of walking into a troll infested environment," Newt sighed.

"So they sought out the master," Perenelle said with a grin. "I don't think you'll ever end up retiring at this rate, Newt."

Newt laughed. "Not that I mind."

"Though I bet Tina does," Merlin teased.

"Yes, well, we all know that she's been putting up with my antics for years. She wasn't happy with the ministry asking me to do this but someone's got to look into why a mountain troll decided to take up residence near Hogsmeade. I've been asked to try to convince it to leave the area."

"That's understandable, given they feast on human flesh," Aberforth mused.

"And nobody wants that kind of magical beast roaming so close to a school full of children," Merlin put in. "Do you need any help, Newt?"

"I think I can handle it but if I do need assistance, I know how to find you."

The four then turn the conversation to mundane things. Since it was only the four of them in the pub, Aberforth wasted no time teasing Merlin and Perenelle about being students again. He asked how classes were going which ensued in a rather drawn out complaint from Merlin about how boring everything was.

"Still sneaking out at night for some alone time?" Newt asked, Aberforth sharing his sly grin.

"Yes even if Severus Snape seems determined to give me detention for the rest of my life," Merlin grumbled. "I swear, the man is a genius at potions but he has it in for anyone that doesn't belong to his own house."

"Foul git," Aberforth grunted. "Never liked 'im."

"He's annoying but he's a good man," Merlin defended.

"He's a death eater, Nicolas!"

"He _was_ ," Perenelle clarified. "People change, Abe."

"Forgive me, Perenelle, but I don't believe that's the case with death eaters. Albus was a fool for allowing that vermin back into the school. In all my years of living in this village, I've heard more complaints about Snape than any other teacher that's worked at Hogwarts."

"So he's not popular with the students," Newt delicately voiced, "that doesn't mean he's evil."

"He's got the Dark Mark, Newt. That's about as evil as it gets," Aberforth opined.

Merlin inwardly sighed. He might not know the logistics of why Albus trusted Snape but he knew the man was no longer a death eater. Such practitioners held a dark aura of magic and no such feeling could be found from the Potions Master. He may be foul but Merlin had lived a long time and been around many, many people. He could tell the art of wearing a mask had been perfected by Snape and, though he didn't know what was hidden behind the mask, Merlin respected the decision of secrecy. He'd lived behind a mask himself, hiding who he truly was from those he loved most.

"We should probably be off," Perenelle said, pulling Merlin from his silent rumination. "We promised to meet some classmates in about an hour and there's some shopping we need to get done before then."

"Well, thanks for stopping by," Aberforth muttered.

"Anytime, Abe," Merlin smiled. "Newt, let me know if you need help with that troll."

"Will do," the Magizoologist grinned with a cheerful wave.

The two left the pub and started heading up the main road.

"You alright, sweetheart? You zoned out there for a while."

Merlin sent his wife a smile. "I'm fine, Nellie."

She studied him with a frown. "I know you don't like people shaming others for mistakes they've made – especially when they are ignorant to all the details behind the choices."

Merlin sighed. "I guess the situation reminds me of my faults. We keep secrets for a reason, Nellie, but we suffer silently by doing so."

"And Snape is suffering."

Merlin nodded. "I don't know what he's hiding – and, frankly, I don't really care to find out – but it does bother me to see others judging him when they don't understand him."

"You don't seem to like him, though."

A frown pulled at Merlin's mouth. "I don't have to like someone to defend them, Nellie."

She laughed and looped her arm around his. "I suppose you don't. Come on, even if you think it's too early, I prefer to take a leaf out of Caroline's book. Christmas _is_ right around the corner and we do have a few friends to shop for."

Merlin put on a false grimace. "Lead me to my death if you must, dearest."

Perenelle chuckled, pulling him into Tomes and Scrolls, the local bookstore.

[][][]

Merlin woke the morning of October twenty third from a kiss. Perenelle stood next to his bed, her long hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing jeans and a lovely red sweater.

"Nellie, what are you doing here this early?" Merlin wondered, looking past her at the window; the first rays of the sun were barely poking through the horizon.

Perenelle's grin was large. "I'm kidnapping you."

Merlin rose an eyebrow. "Are you now? And where, pray tell, are we going?"

"Get dressed," she commanded, "and meet me in the common room. Wear something warm – I'd recommend boots too."

Thoroughly confused, Merlin watched her go before doing as she asked, trying to be as discreet as possible so he wouldn't wake his dorm mates. Now dressed in a thick blue sweater vest, brown trousers, and boots, Merlin grabbed a red scarf and left the room.

He found Perenelle standing by one of the small tables, the surface covered by a small cake and a present wrapped in silver paper. Her smile was wide as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Happy birthday, Merlin," she quietly declared before passing him the present.

Oh.

Right; it was his birthday.

Merlin had calculated it out years ago. It had taken him quite a while to do so since peasants normally didn't keep records. He knew he was two years younger than Arthur and his mother had said he'd been born around the time of Samhain. The prat's birthday, April 20, 534 had practically been a holiday in Camelot and Samhain was All Hallows Eve; using those two dates, Merlin eventually calculated that he'd been born October 24, 536. That would mean he was…

"Fourteen hundred fifty five," he murmured aloud, seeing the numbers written in blue frosting on the cake Perenelle had made.

"I figured it would be safer to write it out than to use candles," she grinned.

Merlin agreed, sending her a smile even though on the inside he was stabbed with the familiar ache he felt every time he reached another year without any change.

Forcing away the sorrowful thought, he opened the present in his hands. Inside were two day tickets to Highlands Unbridled. A large grin really split Merlin's face as he looked up at his wife who was looking rather pleased by his reaction.

"So you're really kidnapping me then," he said happily.

"Yep! I worked it out with Albus so he knows where we'll be. Now, unfortunately, I don't have a way to get us there - but you do so let's eat this cake then you can work that magic of yours and we'll be off!"

Once the cake was gone, Merlin removed his glasses and stuffed them in his pocket, allowing his golden eyes to be seen as he transported them far away from Hogwarts. Their exit ruffled the pages of an open book on the table as the magical wind stirred the silk curtains of the common room.

They landed in a forest just outside their destination. Merlin and Perenelle had come here a few times in the past so they knew exactly which locations to transport and apparate to where they wouldn't have to fear being discovered. The forest was covered in a light blanket of snow as a few critters scurried away into the underbrush from their sudden appearance. After changing their age to the standard forty year olds they pretended to be, Merlin took Perenelle's hand and they enjoyed a lovely walk before reaching Highlands Unbridled.

Being on rather friendly terms with the owners and management, Merlin and Perenelle had free access to take horses out on any adventure in the surrounding landscape that they wished. After checking in at the main office, they went into the stables and selected their steeds, Merlin choosing a gorgeous Cleveland bay x highland horse called Merrick that had taken an instant shine to him. Perenelle chose River, a lovely piebald Irish cob.

Merlin helped the stable hands in saddling the horses; even though the world had advanced, the materials for saddling a horse had remained relatively the same. In no time at all, the two were mounted and ready to go, the sun's rays now penetrating the world enough to see most of the landscape in the pale dawn light. Merlin guided Merrick out into the snow towards a trail that would take them up into the hills but also through some glens. After trotting for a while Perenelle decided to pick up the pace, nudging River in the sides into a strong gallop. Laughing, Merlin pursued.

Horseback riding was one of the few things Merlin could tie back to his past. It was thrilling, the winter wind whipping his hair as his body rhythmically moved up and down in the saddle. His mind was called back to adventures of a long forgotten time, where the thundering of hoof beats dug into the earth as knights spurred their steeds onward through forests and over hills. The ghost of countless conversations whispered through the wind of knights laughing as their king and his favored manservant teased each other. A bittersweet smile lifted Merlin's lips as he remembered all the times he'd called Arthur a dollophead only for the king to respond that he was an idiot.

After a time, Perenelle slowed the pace and Merlin again copied her. The two rode in silence for a while, enjoying the countryside covered in white and evergreen. When the sun neared nine in the morning, the two decided to let the horses rest. Dismounting on the top of a hill overlooking the sea, Merlin looped his arm around his lovely wife who rested her head on his shoulder.

"I knew it was risky, celebrating your birthday like this," she sighed, "but I know how much you love horseback riding… even if it makes you a little sad."

Merlin's smile was still bittersweet as he replied, "It was a wonderful gift, Nellie. While it does remind me a lot of the past, most of the memories tied to it are happy ones."

Perenelle smiled. "Because being insulted by Arthur was one of the highlights of your day."

Merlin laughed. "Of course; insults meant he was happy."

"Which meant you were happy too," she concluded.

"Yes," Merlin whispered, his eyes looking out at the sea, his mind once again lost in memory.

"Merlin?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you happy?"

Merlin turned to look at her. Perenelle's forehead was scrunched slightly, a frown on her face. Taking her hands, he kissed them before looking right into her eyes.

"I am," he stated, truly meaning it. "You're having one of those rare doubting moments, aren't you?"

Perenelle shrugged, a guilty half-smile lifting the corners of her mouth. Merlin kissed her.

"You don't need to have doubts about making me feel happy or not, sweetheart. You will always be a source of happiness to me – and a rather large one at that. I may not be completely whole without The Prat but you have mended all of the cracks in this old heart of mine that can be filled without him. Arthur will have to heal the rest but you don't have to worry about thinking you need to do more than you already have. These past six centuries would have been nothing but dark and empty without you."

Perenelle reached up on her toes and kissed him. "I love you, Merlin."

"As I love you," he murmured, kissing her again.

"We're probably going to face a lot of gossip when we get back," Perenelle sighed after a moment.

Merlin frowned before playfully nudging her. "It's your fault; you were the one that wanted to kidnap me today."

She laughed and lightly shoved him back. "You're at fault as much as I am! You consented and it was your magic that brought us here."

"True. Alright, you win."

Perenelle grinned in triumph and Merlin looked at her with eyes full of love. He kissed her one last time before they headed back to the horses. They spent the whole day riding, walking, and talking about anything that suited them, enjoying the hills and a small pub near the coast around lunchtime. Merlin was truly grateful for the experience; he'd been a little high strung what with homework and worrying about Voldemort and the stone. It was a breath of fresh air, being away from the castle and all of the pressure. And spending time with Perenelle was always a pleasure, her hand comfortably resting in his when they decided to walk while the horses trailed along behind them. Merlin would often think how lucky he was having her in his life, imagining how dreadful it would have been if he'd run away instead of deciding to marry her. He was also grateful that he'd had so many years with her. He'd been with her longer than anyone and she knew him in ways that no one – except perhaps his mother – ever had. She was a gift and he cherished her with everything he had.

"The sun's starting to set," Perenelle noted hours later after they'd ridden through yet another glen. "Lessons should be over soon."

"And dinner is starting to sound really good," Merlin added.

"That meal at that pub we stopped at earlier wasn't the best, was it?"

Merlin shook his head. "No but the food was better than the gruel Gaius would sometimes give me."

Perenelle laughed. "Well, let's head back so we can have a real meal then, shall we?"

They raced back to Highlands Unbridled, reaching the establishment about an hour later. River and Merrick were both pretty tired and very excited to be back in their stalls where fresh hay and water stood waiting for them. Merlin gave Merrick a few friendly pats before he and Perenelle left the stables to say goodbye to the staff in the main office. Once that was done they trudged down the road until they reached the forest where Merlin could transport them back to Hogwarts. Since classes were still going on, he aimed for the edge of the Forbidden Forest near the greenhouses; that way, if caught on the grounds, they could say they had merely been taking a stroll.

The chilly air had grown more frigid with the setting of the sun and both shivered as Merlin changed them back into the unassuming fifteen year olds they were supposed to be. He also magicked their clothes so they appeared to be the standard black Hogwarts robes. Checking their appearance, he nodded to himself and they exited the forest, holding hands as they trudged back up to the school.

Outside the doors to the castle, Merlin pulled Perenelle into an embrace and muttered, "I had a lovely time. Thank you."

"I'm glad," she smiled. "Remember, our cover if anyone asks is that we were feeling a little under the weather so we went to see Madam Pomfrey who told us to stay in bed."

"Do you really think anyone is going to believe that?" Merlin chuckled.

Perenelle shrugged. "People can be remarkably thick if you make a story convincing enough."

The warlock openly laughed.

Most did end up believing their cock-and-bull excuse but Henry and Caroline suspected they'd skived off.

"Where did you _really_ end up going?" Henry asked at dinner as Professor Flitwick wandered off after asking where they'd been.

Merlin shook his head, grinning. "Sorry, Henry, I'm not at liberty to say."

"Oh, come on!" Caroline whispered, leaning in close. "I know you two wandered off somewhere! Don't tell me you went into the Forbidden Forest and _did it!"_

Henry choked on his pumpkin juice while Merlin and Perenelle looked scandalized.

" _What?!"_ Merlin cried while Perenelle hissed, " _Caroline!"_

"Why would you even draw to that conclusion?" Henry demanded, mortified.

Caroline shrugged. "I'm not the only one gossiping about you two."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Don't people have better things to do with their time?"

"Seriously," Perenelle angrily agreed. "You'd think they'd be more worried about their grades."

"Or concerned about whether or not Slytherin is going to win the Quidditch Cup again," put in Henry as an attempt to change the conversation. "I've heard a rumor that Gryffindor has a secret weapon this year. With the way Wood was reacting a while ago, I'd say he's got a foolproof plan to flatten the snakes."

"About time too," said Caroline. "Even if we don't win, anyone is better than Slytherin."

Grateful for the change in topic, Merlin returned to his dinner and enjoyed the rest of the evening with his friends. Henry and Caroline, both knowing it was his birthday, surprised him later in the common room with presents. Caroline gave him a leather bound journal and a set of eagle feather quills while Henry handed him a box full of chocolate frogs.

"Chocolate frogs, Henry? Really?" Caroline teased.

"What? I'm rubbish at gift-giving, alright?" Henry groused, his cheeks red.

"I think it's brilliant," Merlin stated, opening the box immediately and popping a frog into his mouth. "Thanks Henry."

Henry beamed.

They spent the evening either working on homework or, in Merlin and Perenelle's case, playing chess. When it was time for bed, Merlin turned in with a kiss from his wife and a smile on his face, thinking that this had been one of the best birthdays he'd had while attending Hogwarts. When he pulled back the curtains of his four-poster he found one last present: a pair of woolen socks from Dumbledore.

* * *

 **The figuring of Merlin's birthday I got from an Archive of Our Own story/user (sorry I don't remember the name or else I'd mention it) so I take no credit for figuring things out there. I also know this chapter was kind of fluffy but I thought it important to give Merlin some birthday lovings - even if he's 1455, birthdays are special!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Happy Halloween everyone! I thought it appropriate to give you this chapter on this wonderful holiday. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form. I'm just a hopeless fan.**

* * *

Chapter 5

A Lie and a Jinx

* * *

The Great Hall was filled with laughter and cheer as swarms of live bats caused the flames of candles to constantly flutter. Humongous pumpkins, courtesy of Hagrid, had been carved into a variety of faces and lined the walls. Smaller pumpkins were on the tables mixed in with a stunning assortment of foods for the traditional Halloween Feast. There was only one person in the room sitting in a cloud of gloom.

Merlin stirred his mashed potatoes, his mind caught up in horrible memory.

Samhain; it was the time of year when one was supposed to feel closest to their ancestors – a time to remember those one had lost, to celebrate their passing.

Merlin hated this holiday.

Even though it had been hundreds of years, he still thought of the Dorocha and the nightmare they had brought to Camelot, killing everyone until Sir Lancelot sacrificed himself to seal the veil between the worlds. Arthur had planned to perform the deed himself but there was no way Merlin was going to let that happen. He'd planned to offer himself instead but Lancelot beat him to it. As a result, Merlin had lost the only friend who knew about his magic. Since then, Samhain had served as a terrible reminder of that dreadful day as well as the further loss he experienced when everyone he knew and loved left him.

He was pulled from his melancholy when Professor Quirrell sprinted into the hall with terror on his face and his turban askew. His dramatic entrance had captivated everyone so when he reached Dumbledore at the head table, all ears could hear his petrified exclamation.

"Troll – in the dungeons – thought you ought to know."

He then fainted, his body falling to the ground.

As the rest of the room erupted into full-blown panic, Merlin couldn't help but think of the mountain troll Newt was supposed to take care at the beginning of the month. Was this the same one? And how had it entered the castle? A troll's IQ was considered at the bottom of the barrel, after all. Maybe Peeves let it in? Or maybe...

Dumbledore's wand produced several purple firecrackers in order to restore silence, regaining everyone's attention.

"Prefects," he shouted, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Merlin and Perenelle jumped into action, gathering the Ravenclaws and joining the throngs of students heading out of the hall towards their common rooms. Merlin stayed at the back of the group, his magic and eyes on full alert for any sight of the troll. He'd made it halfway to the marble staircase when something caught his eye: two small Gryffindor first years falling away from their group and joining a bunch of Hufflepuffs heading in the opposite direction. Normally he'd chalk this up to Percy's lacking skills as a prefect but then he noticed that one of the first years was Harry Potter.

Why on earth would Harry be running in the opposite direction of his dormitory when a troll was on the loose?

Making an unconscious decision, Merlin followed after him and his redheaded friend – the youngest Weasley brother, he suspected – as they continued trailing the Hufflepuffs. When they were getting closer to the Hufflepuff dormitory, Harry and his friend slipped into a side corridor. Before continuing in his pursuit, Merlin cloaked himself with an invisibility spell and muffled his footsteps. It was a good thing he did because when he was halfway down the corridor he heard someone quickly approaching from behind. Spinning around, Merlin leapt out of the way so as not to be run over by Professor Snape. The Potions Master crossed the hall and disappeared out of sight. Where was he running off to?

Merlin unconsciously stepped forward to follow him when Harry emerged from behind a large stone griffin, reminding him why he was in this corridor in the first place. Drat; he'd have to worry about Snape later.

"What's he doing?" Harry whispered and for a second Merlin panicked because he thought he was talking about him. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

"Search me," the redhead muttered.

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief, reminding himself that he was invisible. He watched as Harry and the youngest Weasley started following after Snape. He couldn't help but smirk. Apparently he wasn't the only one curious to know the teacher's destination.

"He's heading for the third floor," said Harry.

What? Why would Snape go snooping around near the stone while everyone else was occupied with the troll? Merlin's eyes narrowed. He was about to ditch Harry and his friend to pursue the Potions Master when something accosted his sense of smell.

"Can you smell something?" asked the redhead, similarly affected.

Merlin silently cursed. Judging by the atrocious smell consisting of a combination of sewage and old socks, the troll had left the dungeon. The stench was soon accompanied by the sounds of heavy footfalls and low grunts before the monster came into view. The Weasley boy pointed as it slowly moved towards them and the two boys scurried into the shadows to hide. Merlin debated on destroying the creature here and now but that would mean revealing himself. Not to mention he was supposed to be fifteen and no fifteen year old could obliterate a mountain troll. Well, _he_ could have when he was fifteen but he wasn't supposed to be him right now! Rolling his eyes in frustration, Merlin had to consent himself to wait for an opportunity when the boys were gone and he was alone with the troll. He could then easily take care of it and create some kind of evidence to make it look like the troll had simply knocked itself out for when the teachers arrived.

The troll was just as ugly and stupid as every other one of its kind that Merlin had run into over the years. It was twelve feet tall, gray, and possessed a body too big for its tiny head. Its short legs and flat horny feet dragged across the ground along with a club it held; its arms were so long that it couldn't hold the thing properly.

The troll reached a doorway and, after a moment of deliberation, entered the room.

"The key's in the lock," Harry observed. "We could lock it in."

"Good idea," said the redhead nervously.

Merlin watched in amusement as they cautiously approached the door. With one quick leap, Harry grabbed the key, slammed the door shut, and locked it. The boys shared a moment of praise before they started to run back down the passage probably in search of the teachers. Merlin was just thinking that his plan would work out for once when everything was blown out of proportion by a high-pitched scream coming from the chamber containing the troll. Merlin stepped forward at the same time he heard Harry and his friend shout.

" _Hermione!"_

The boys sprinted back down the corridor and Merlin was forced to return to the shadows. Harry fumbled with the key for a moment before successfully pulling the door open and charging inside, the redhead right behind him. Were they insane? There was no way they could defeat that monster on their own! With a combination of irritation and worry, Merlin hastened after them.

It turned out that Harry had locked the troll in the girl's bathroom, the sinks lining the walls being destroyed by it as it made its way towards a petrified girl with bushy brown hair. Merlin faintly recognized her but he couldn't remember why.

"Confuse it!" Harry suggested to his friend, seizing a tap and throwing it as hard as he could at the wall.

 _That's not going to work_ , Merlin thought _._

Trolls weren't capable of focusing on multiple things at a time. It would need a physical push to divert its attention from the girl it clearly wanted to eat. Using an invisible spell, he smacked the troll in the back just enough to make the creature pause and look around stupidly. It saw Harry, debated a moment, and started towards him with its club raised.

"Oy, pea-brain!" the redhead shouted from across the room, throwing a metal pipe at its shoulder.

Merlin ran around to where the boy stood and used another invisible spell to smack the troll in the spot where the pipe had hit. The least he could do was help them in their distracting efforts since it was clear they were only trying to get the girl, Hermione, to safety before escaping the bathroom themselves.

As the troll made towards where he and the young Weasley stood, Harry ran around to Hermione. "Come on, run, _run_!" But the poor girl seemed to be paralyzed with fear. She didn't move an inch even with Harry pulling on her arm.

The troll let out a roar and continued in its course towards Ron whose window of escape had disappeared. Merlin scowled and stepped forward. Hidden or not, he wasn't about to stand here and let a child die.

Harry then did something both incredibly bold and stupid. He left Hermione, ran across the room, and leapt into the air. He managed to get his arms around the troll's neck but his wand was shoved up its nose in the process. Merlin winced as the creature howled in pain and started twisting around, its club flying about in all directions. Seeing that Hermione was about to get clobbered, Merlin subtly used a shielding spell that caused the club to glide upward instead of down while Harry held onto the troll in order to protect himself from falling and getting hit or trampled on.

Merlin twisted around to remove Harry from the troll when the younger Weasley pulled out his wand and shouted _, "Wingardium Leviosa!"_

Merlin watched in disbelief as the club flew out of the troll's hand, rose high into the air, and fell on its owner's head. The monster swayed before falling to the ground, the whole room shaking from the impact. The ancient warlock stared in shock at the three first years.

"Is it – dead?" asked Hermione.

"I don't think so," said Harry, "I think it's just been knocked out."

Merlin cringed as Harry removed his wand from the troll's nose.

"Urgh – troll boogers," he complained as he wiped his wand on the troll's trousers.

Merlin nearly started laughing but was glad he held it in because a moment later Professor McGonagall burst into the room with Professor Snape and Quirrell following close behind. At the sight of the troll, Quirrell whimpered and collapsed onto a toilet, holding his heart. Merlin rolled his eyes at the man's cowardice as Snape bent down to observe the beast. Professor McGonagall looked like she was going to explode with anger.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" she demanded. Harry looked at his friend who hadn't moved. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Merlin was just as curious to hear the answer to this question as the teachers. He looked at Harry who, instead of answering, looked down at his feet.

"Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

"I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, because I've read all about them."

Well that was obviously a lie. Merlin would know; he'd perfected lying to superiors from the moment he'd been assigned as Arthur's manservant.

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now," Hermione continued. "Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

The teachers seemed to buy the story but Merlin wasn't fooled. There was more to all of this than any of them were telling and he wanted to know why. Using Legilimens, he reached out first to Hermione then Harry and Ron. He was rather surprised by what he found. Hermione had been crying all day because Ron had pointed out she was friendless and Harry and Ron had later gone in search of her because they knew she didn't know about the troll. Merlin also read their current thoughts and smiled at the friendship he could see developing from all of this. Deciding that he was no longer needed, he skillfully crept out of the bathroom but tripped on his robe when he reached the hall. He laid there, his heart hammering for a few seconds, but Hermione was the only one to leave the bathroom. Once she was out of sight, Merlin regained his footing and quietly set off for Ravenclaw Tower.

He reached his destination and whispered his answer to the door knocker's riddle. The door swung open and he quickly scurried inside. Thankfully everyone was so engrossed in conversations about the troll that none noticed his entrance. Still invisible, he managed to reach the staircase to the boy's dormitories. Once in the safety of his empty room, he removed the invisibility spell and let out a sigh.

"There you are!"

Merlin leapt out of his skin and twisted around, his hand raised.

"Wow, easy, it's just me!"

"Perenelle! You scared the life out of me!"

His wife frowned, her arms folded as she came further out of the shadows.

"Merlin, where have you been? Were you helping with the troll?"

"Sort of," he answered, his racing heart settling in his chest.

He told Perenelle the whole story and she stared in disbelief when he finished.

"You mean to tell me three first years managed to defeat a fully grown mountain troll by knocking it out with its own club?"

Merlin started laughing. "I used the same tactic on bandits who were trying to kill Arthur. I never would have thought to use such tactics on a troll but Ron proved it to be just as effective."

"Clearly," Perenelle laughed, having seen many of those bandit fights in Merlin's pensive. "Well, all I can say is I'm glad you were there to make sure none of them died."

"There were a few close calls but I think the three of them could have managed it on their own," Merlin mused.

"I just hope they don't get into trouble for it all."

"They might but I think McGonagall's smart enough not to punish them. Snape probably would have though."

"Speaking of, you said you saw him heading towards the third floor?"

Merlin frowned. "That's what it looked like."

He shared a concerned glance with her.

"I'm going to go check it out," he decided.

"Be careful," Perenelle warned.

Merlin nodded before transporting directly into Fluffy's room. Once again he had to calm the beast before it could take his head off. Patting the giant dog's right head, Merlin observed the trapdoor as well as the main door leading into the corridor. The latter was locked and the trapdoor was undisturbed. Even so, Merlin narrowed his eyes.

"Did someone try to get in again, Fluffy?" he asked, turning to the big dog.

Fluffy growled and nodded all three of his heads before spitting a rather slobbered on object from his center mouth. Removing the saliva with a wave of magic, Merlin picked up the now dry piece of black cloth and scowled.

"Looks like you got a taste of whoever it was, huh?"

Fluffy barked, looking rather proud of himself.

"Good boy," Merlin praised. "Tell me, was it Snape?"

Fluffy tilted his three heads.

"Long greasy hair, white skin, looks like a bat in his black cloak."

Fluffy barked before growling in recognition.

Merlin nodded to him, his eyes narrowed.

"Keep up the good work, Fluffy."

He produced another round of large steaks before transporting right outside of Dumbledore's office. Not even bothering to knock, he angrily threw the door open and stormed up to the headmaster's desk. Ignoring the rather startled look on his old friend's face, Merlin threw down the piece of cloth and seethed.

" _Snape's!_ Tell me, Albus, what was he doing in the third floor corridor?"

"Nicolas, calm yourself," Dumbledore said in an attempt to placate him, his eyes filled with silent apprehension.

Merlin took a deep breath and closed his eyes. After counting to seven he relaxed. "Sorry," he muttered, taking his glasses off for a moment to rub his lids.

"That's quite alright," Dumbledore replied, smiling slightly. "Now, to answer your question; I felt a troll wandering through the dungeons would be a perfect distraction for Voldemort so I sent Severus to check on the third floor. He has yet to report to me his findings but I'm expecting him any moment."

"Well, Fluffy obviously took a bite out of him," Merlin muttered. "I suppose we should be grateful he didn't take off his leg."

There was a knock on the door. Merlin sighed.

"I'd better go, Albus. Tell me what he reports, won't you?"

"You know I will," Dumbledore promised.

Merlin took the cloth and stuffed it into his pocket before hastening to the door. Professor Snape was indeed the one who had knocked. The Potions Master was surprised to see him, one eyebrow rising as his eyes bore into Merlin's.

"Penrys, what are you doing here?"

"I would think that was obvious," Merlin snapped. "The headmaster wanted to see me. Good night, professor."

Not even caring that Snape was glowering from his rather rude response, Merlin pushed past him and continued down the stairs. He headed back to Ravenclaw Tower the old fashioned way since he didn't want to transport and risk magically appearing in front of anyone. He felt bad for directing his anger at Snape but he was frustrated and scared. He feared that the professor hadn't been the only one to enter Fluffy's domain.

Dumbledore's suspicions were shared; Voldemort had sent that troll, Merlin was sure of it. He didn't know how the evil wizard had influenced the creature to enter the castle in the first place but he wasn't going to let the man attempt to get close to the stone again. Changing direction, he sprinted to the third floor corridor and, after checking the coast was clear, placed an Old alert spell on the door. Nodding to himself, Merlin turned on his heel and ran back to Ravenclaw Tower undetected.

[][][]

November arrived and with it came a change in the weather, frost covering the grass every morning while the chilly air seeped into the castle walls. Despite the cold, the school was filled with excitement because the Quidditch season had officially begun.

Everywhere Merlin went, all anyone wanted to talk about was Quidditch and the hope that Slytherin would finally lose their winning streak. Though Merlin certainly wasn't the one responsible, the knowledge had spread that Harry Potter was the new Gryffindor seeker and many expressed their hope that the first year would be up to snuff to help his team crush the Slytherins.

Merlin had never been terribly interested in sports but he did rather enjoy Quidditch. He'd been to the first game as well as the World Cup match in 1473 where all seven hundred fouls of the sport had been committed. That game was the reason he'd never tried out for any teams himself, school or professional; he couldn't fathom staying on a broomstick for more than a day let alone several _months_.

As he followed the rest of the student populace down to the Quidditch pitch, Merlin was thankful he'd worn his winter cloak along with his leather gloves; he refused to wear dragon skin since the very thought made him sick. Even if the skin was taken from a dead dragon, he couldn't bring himself to disrespect his kin in any kind of way.

Settling in the cold stands next to Perenelle, Henry, and Caroline, Merlin noticed the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. Like the rest of Ravenclaw House, Henry was rather eager to see Gryffindor trounce Slytherin. He'd even participated in the bets several were making earlier in the common room. Merlin didn't really care for house rivalry; he just wanted to enjoy watching a sport that was entirely magical.

Soon the Slytherin Quidditch team appeared, all seven players clad in magnificent green robes. The Slytherins in the stands let out a cheer, several of them waving silver and green flags.

"Go back to the dungeons, filthy snakes!" Henry shouted through his cupped hands.

Several people around him roared their approval, a few bellowing similar insults at the Slytherins. Merlin shared an exasperated eye-roll with Perenelle but kept silent. He'd tried to sedate Henry's hatred of Slytherin for years but to no avail; the kid was caught in the prejudice just as much as the rest of the school.

When the Gryffindor Quidditch team arrived, the stands exploded with cheers that made Merlin's ears ring. A group of Gryffindors in the stands opposite them had made a banner saying "Potter for President" that flashed different colors.

After a moment Madam Hooch's whistle sounded and fifteen brooms rose into the air, beginning the game.

Blurs of red and green streaked through the sky, chasing the Quaffle back and forth while dodging bludgers in an attempt to reach the goal posts on either side of the field. Fred and George's friend, Lee Jordan, was commentating and Merlin couldn't help laughing when Professor McGonagall reprimanded him for making a comment about Angelina Johnson that wasn't relevant to the game play whatsoever.

Shortly after Katie Bell was hit in the head by a bludger, Merlin felt his mind slipping into past memories of a different kind of competition involving chainmail, horses, thrilling sword fights, and knights from across the land. The best ones had all involved Arthur; there hadn't been a man since the king that could rival his skills as a warrior. Merlin had drawn to the conclusion that this had to do with Arthur being the other side of his coin. He was the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth so logically it made sense to him that his counterpart was the greatest king. Merlin wondered how Arthur would fair in a Quidditch match though. The very thought made him chuckle.

"Was that the snitch?"

Merlin was pulled from his thoughts as Lee Jordan's question caused a murmur through the crowd. All eyes honed in on the seekers as Harry and Terence Higgs hurtled toward the tiny glittering ball. They were neck and neck for a time but then Harry's broom outstripped Higgs. He was about to close in –

The Gryffindors erupted in a roar of outrage, echoed by many Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as Harry was knocked off course by Marcus Flint.

"Foul!" the Gryffindors bellowed.

"Well, that was disappointing," Perenelle sighed as Madam Hooch awarded the Gryffindors a free shot after reprimanding the Slytherin Captain.

"Harry's pretty good though," Merlin commented. "I'm sure he'll catch it next time."

"He would have caught it _this_ time if that foul git hadn't tried to kill him!" Henry groused. "Bloody cheater!"

Lee Jordan seemed to agree with him despite the fact that, as commentator, he wasn't supposed to take sides.

"So – after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating –"

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall reproved.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul –"

" _Jordan, I'm warning you –"_

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

Merlin was rather upset about Flint's deplorable act and decided to take a greater interest in the game rather than his memories. His eyes followed Harry until the boy dodged a bludger and his broom suddenly pitched forward. The same time the broom lurched Merlin felt like someone had sucker punched him in the stomach. Gasping in shock, he leaned forward as Henry stood and started shouting at the Gryffindors for letting the Slytherins take another goal.

"Arlin! Are you alright?" Perenelle cried.

"Dark magic," Merlin grunted, "Harry's broom."

Perenelle's eyes widened in alarm and, after seeing Harry's distress, she hissed, "Can you find out who's doing it?"

Getting hold of his discomfort, Merlin looked up and started scanning the crowd with his magic but it was useless. Every individual gave off a certain magical aura and when gathered in large bodies, those auras tended to become distorted. Combine that with the powerful enchantments surrounding the school – along with those currently in use on the Quidditch field – and Merlin was left with a conundrum of quickly discovering the dark magic's source. He'd have to look for the outward signs and hope whoever they were would be obvious enough for him to spot.

"Come on!" he growled, his eyes pure gold beneath his glasses as he searched around, magnifying his vision.

While he was occupied with this, the crowd had finally noticed and started focusing on Harry, whose broom had decided to take on a mind of its own. It seemed determined to unseat him, zigzagging and swerving in sudden movements. There was a sharp gasp and Merlin was distracted from his search when he saw Harry dangling from his broom, holding on with one hand.

"Merlin!" Perenelle whispered in dismay.

Cursing in the old tongue, Merlin removed his eyes from Harry and stood up on his chair, looking out at the people around him instead of in the opposite stands. While there was agitated movement from most of his fellow students and several of the professors, Merlin finally pinpointed two men who were standing stock-still. First was Severus Snape, his eyes fixed on Harry, his lips moving in quick succession. The second, quite surprisingly, was Professor Quirrell in the row behind him. With Merlin's enhanced vision he could see Quirrell's eyes and the malignant intent they held.

"I don't believe it," he gasped.

Quirrell – stuttering, frightened-out-of-his-mind Quirinus Quirrell – was using dark magic?!

"Arlin? Merlin!" Perenelle hissed right in his ear.

Merlin jumped. Shaking his head, he rounded on his wife.

"It's Quirrell," he whispered.

" _What?"_

Perenelle snatched Henry's binoculars _– "Hey!"_ – and searched a moment before finding the professor. Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. Tossing the binoculars back to a rather miffed Henry, she turned back to Merlin.

"What are you going to do?"

"I could easily take him down but I'd have to use Old magic to do it; it would take too long to use the New to counteract his curse."

"Then do it!"

"I can't," Merlin groaned.

"Why not? It's not like you have to use an incantation!"

"Nellie, even the weakest curses take time to break with modern spells and while Old magic would make them automatically disappear, such a thing would instantly alert anyone trained in the dark arts!"

"But Harry –"

"I'll just have to focus on catching him," Merlin muttered. _"Arresto Momentum_ should do the trick. It's an easy enough spell."

Not entirely pleased with this plan, both turned back to Harry. His broom was vibrating violently. The Weasley twins had taken to flying below him as a sort of safety net while the crowd restlessly watched. Palms sweating, Merlin gathered his magic, ready to use it at a moment's notice. Just when he was sure Harry's grip was going to slack, the boy regained control and was able to swing back onto his broom. Merlin twisted around to find Quirrell disentangling himself from the floor. Someone must have bumped into him by chance. Merlin thanked every star above for that and silently cursed himself for not thinking of something so simple in the first place. He always tried to over complicate things. Disgruntled, he turned back to the game just in time to see Harry flying straight for the ground. He clapped his hand to his mouth, hit the field, and coughed.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted a moment later, holding the struggling ball above his head.

Merlin blinked and then released his tension in a fit of laughter. The crowd, realizing what exactly Harry was holding, exploded in a rush of profound delight – except the Slytherins who looked like they could spit venom, such was their outrage.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Caroline cried in relief, making the warlock jump.

Perenelle chuckled and Merlin scowled at the stupid, bloody expletive.

[][][]

"It's Quirrell," Merlin declared.

He was leaning heavily against the Headmaster's desk while Perenelle hovered somewhere behind him. Dumbledore's eyebrows rose in shock.

"Quirinus? Are you sure, Nicolas?"

"Positive."

He then related what he'd seen in the stands.

"And you didn't suspect Severus?"

"Not when I saw the malicious intent in Quirrell's eyes. I'm telling you, Albus, it's him. We both know it takes great magical power, albeit dark, to mangle the advanced enchantments of a broomstick. Quirrell doesn't possess the capability of controlling such magic on his own."

"He was a rather conflicted boy in his school days," Dumbledore mused with a grave frown. "That could have made him rather easy to manipulate - but I never would have thought…"

Perenelle let out a light gasp and Merlin whirled around.

"Nellie?" he prompted. She didn't respond, her eyes wide with fear. Alarmed, Merlin grabbed her shoulders. "Sweetheart?"

She blinked and refocused on him. "Mer – Nick, wasn't Quirrell one of the professors we trusted to _protect_ the stone?"

Dumbledore and Merlin swore at the same time. While the latter cursed in the old tongue, Dumbledore groaned, "Merlin's beard!"

Merlin sent his old friend a glare before letting it slide. Albus didn't know how much that phrase bothered him, he had to remind himself.

"This is bad," Merlin declared instead, focusing on the problem. "Not only does Quirrell know what the other enchantments are and how to break them but he also knows _where_ they are!"

"Forgive me, Nicolas, but he doesn't know how to break _all_ of them," Dumbledore countered.

"Did you finish yours then?" Perenelle eagerly assumed.

The headmaster shook his head.

"No – but none of the teachers know how to get past Fluffy."

Merlin blinked and then he began to grin.

"That was sly of you, Albus."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled a bit.

"While I trust each of my professors, I have learned not to put all of my eggs into one basket."

"So the only thing preventing Quirrell from getting through the trapdoor is Fluffy," Perenelle surmised. "Will that be enough?"

"Enough for now," Dumbledore said with conviction. "Choosing a troll as his enchantment to protect the stone and alerting us to the one on Halloween; I suspect our dear Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor has a way with the beasts. However, since the stone is still safe, it is clear he is not gifted with being able to get past a terrifying three headed dog."

"Something we have great cause to be thankful for," Merlin muttered.

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "My protection is nearly ready. How is the false stone coming along, Nicolas?"

Merlin stilled. Truth be told, he hadn't been putting much effort into making the thing at all. He didn't think it would be that hard, honestly, and he'd been so sidetracked with homework and desiring to be with his wife that the false stone had somewhat slipped his mind.

"I'm still working out the kinks," he vaguely answered.

Dumbledore's eyes flashed with disappointment. Merlin wanted to hang his head. He didn't like letting any of his friends down and he could tell that Dumbledore wasn't pleased with his lack of effort.

"I'll have it done by Christmas," he sincerely promised.

"I would hope so," said Dumbledore, "seeing as we now know exactly who Voldemort is working through. Our opportunity to ensnare him grows smaller every day."

Merlin sighed. "I know, Albus."

"So, do you want us to keep an eye on Quirrell then?" asked Perenelle, feeling Merlin's guilt and a need to somewhat change the conversation.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"I don't think it would be wise, Perenelle. Students are not supposed to know about the stone and we don't want to give Professor Quirrell a reason to suspect either of you – especially once we switch the stones in December. I will ask Severus to continue to watch him."

Merlin sighed. He really didn't like having to rely on others to do things he was perfectly capable of doing himself but he could see the logic behind Dumbledore's words. After December the real stone would be back in his possession and Merlin didn't want to give Quirrell any reason to suspect him. He'd have to trust Snape to watch the trapdoor until Christmas. It was only a month away, after all. He could hold out until then.

Dumbledore checked his watch and frowned.

"Forgive me, Nicolas, Perenelle, but I have a dinner appointment this evening with the Minister of Magic."

Merlin grinned. "Fudge still coming to you for advice, is he?"

Dumbledore grimaced. "I'm afraid so."

Laughing, Merlin took Perenelle's hand and headed for the door.

"I'm sure you'll survive the night."

"If not, bury my body on the grounds, would you?"

Perenelle rolled her eyes but chuckled alongside her husband.

"We'll make sure to do that, Albus."

"Enjoy what I'm sure will be a romantic evening," Dumbledore called, unable to resist teasing them.

"Goodnight, Albus!" Merlin stiffly replied before shutting the door.

The headmaster let out a hearty chuckle.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi everyone! I know it's been a lot longer than usual for me to update; life kind of got the better of me these last few weeks. I'm going to try my darnedest to get the next chapter to you in time for Christmas. Could you all do me a favor and leave a review after this chapter? I noticed a lot of people favoriting the story - thank you very much for that! - and I would love to know why all of you have taken an interest. Thanks again for being such patient fans. Here's the chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter**

* * *

Chapter 6

Fraudulent Dealings

* * *

Merlin was peeved – no, he was _livid!_

How could he not be?

After discovering Quirrell's change in loyalties, the warlock had done some sleuthing and found that the professor's turban carried a concealment charm - a charm that apparently did a remarkable job hiding the blatant dark magic belonging to Voldemort. How had he not noticed it before? It was so _obvious_ now!

Merlin's quill suddenly snapped and the warlock looked down in regret. Sighing, he set the quill aside and retrieved a new one from his bag while Professor Quirrell continued his lecture on the Patronus Charm.

It was infuriating, sitting in a classroom with a teacher that had sold his soul to darkness, allowing the most evil wizard in the modern age to dwell in his body. Merlin couldn't do anything without causing a disturbance but his magic roiled beneath him any time Quirrell walked past his desk. That concealment charm was a powerful one to have fooled him for as long as it had. In his defense, he hadn't exactly expected his Defense Professor to be harboring Voldemort. Still, he should have detected _something!_ He was supposed to be the greatest sorcerer of all time!

He'd been around countless dark witches and wizards. He knew what to look for. He knew the signs. He could pick out a Death Eater a mile away. And yet he hadn't been able to detect Voldemort even though he was sitting in the same classroom as him three times a week? Was he growing complacent? Or was it possible that Voldemort was capable of possessing dark magic that could rival the evil sorcerers of old? The very thought was unnerving.

Grindelwald had been remarkably powerful for a modern wizard but not as terrifying as Morgana and Mordred. But for Voldemort to hide himself so well right under Merlin's nose… the warlock couldn't overlook the possibility that he may very well be the most formidable foe to the light side of magic since the days of Morgana.

 _Snap!_

" _What is going on?"_ Perenelle hissed next to him _._ "That's the second quill you've snapped in the last five minutes."

"I'm just frustrated," Merlin muttered.

Perenelle studied him with a frown. She knew where his thoughts dwelled. They'd discussed it several times over the last month and a half. His wife reached over and gently squeezed his hand.

"Don't beat yourself up, Arlin. He fooled us all. But, remember, we're still ahead of the game."

Merlin sighed. "I know, I know. It still doesn't change the fact that I should have noticed something earlier!"

"Mr. P-P-Penrys, Miss G-Graves, is there s-s-something you'd like to s-share with the c-c-class?"

Startled, both looked up to see Professor Quirrell's disapproving frown. Merlin fought the desire to glare. Relying upon his immaculate acting skills, he smiled and shook his head.

"No. Sorry, professor."

Once Quirrell's eyes were off them, Merlin dropped his smile. He didn't know if he'd be able to last the year now that he knew the truth. The one thing that kept him from standing up and obliterating Quirrell this very moment was the plan they had of fooling and defeating Voldemort with the fake stone. Hopefully they wouldn't have to wait long for him to make his move. Whenever he did, Merlin would be ready. He would die before allowing Voldemort to take the one thing that kept Perenelle beside him – and since he couldn't die, the chances of him failing were slim to none.

[][][]

Merlin could never understand why nobody ever thought to use magic to insulate an ancient castle that became so unbearably cold in the winter. Maybe it was an unspoken rule? Camelot had been the same, the nobles bundling themselves in thick layers and refusing to leave their beds or the comfort of a roaring fire. You would think, after centuries of experiencing the same problem, that the wizarding world would have evolved like the muggles but no, for some strange reason, they liked the drafty, shivering-to-death-in-your-boots cold. Merlin glanced at the torches lining the Hogwarts walls and felt betrayed that their warmth didn't extend through the hallways and classrooms.

"It's freezing in here!" he complained as he followed Perenelle down the marble staircase. "If it's this cold inside, it's going to be unbearable out there! Can't we just stay in the castle next to a warm fire?"

"Arlin, it's the last Hogsmeade weekend and you need to get stuff to make the other you-know-what. Not to mention you wanted to visit Aithusa and we still haven't finished Christmas shopping yet."

"Seriously? I thought we got everything last time," Merlin grumbled as he burrowed his chin further into his thick red scarf. "It's not like we've got a lot of people to shop for."

Perenelle leaned in close and muttered, "Stop being such a grumpy old man. We only have the Scamanders left on our list – oh, and I need to get something for you."

The mention of a present drove the retort he had about the 'old man' comment from his mind.

"You're getting me something? Nellie, you don't have to."

"Of course she has to!" Caroline said, finally catching up to them with a disgruntled Henry in tow. "It's required to get a present for those you love. Right, Henry?"

The young Ravenclaw looked rather embarrassed as he nodded. Merlin blinked.

"You two are holding hands."

Henry's pink face flushed to be as red as Merlin's scarf while Caroline grinned triumphantly.

Perenelle gasped and then squealed, "I knew it! I _knew_ it!"

Merlin's eyes twinkled as he laughed, lightly punching Henry's shoulder.

"It's about time, mate."

Henry blinked in surprise. "Huh?"

"You've liked Caroline since last year, right? I know you never said anything but I could tell. I'm glad you two finally worked things out."

Henry looked down at his feet, a pleased smile on his face. "Yeah, me too."

"So, are you going to Madame Puddifoot's?"

Henry's smile slipped into a look of distain as he glanced at his new girlfriend who was walking a little ahead with Perenelle, animatedly sharing how the relationship had become official.

"You know how Caroline is; once she's got something in her head, not even a raging hippogriff can stop her."

Merlin chuckled. "Too true. Well, mate, you're doing the right thing. It's not wise to make your girlfriend angry – trust me."

The four of them were assaulted with the frigid cold as they stepped out of the castle and Merlin hissed in annoyance, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and hunching his shoulders. Younger students were outside playing in the snow, their laughter filling the crisp winter air. Merlin decided to keep his face as covered as possible, listening to the others chat about relationships, homework, and how funny it was to find Mrs. Norris glued to the ceiling on the fourth floor that morning – courtesy of the Weasley twins, Merlin secretly knew.

"Hey, Penrys!"

Speaking of –

"Fred, George, how are you?" Merlin asked as the twins joined him in the trek to Hogsmeade. "Any new pranks we should be aware of?"

"Why do you always think we're planning something?" asked Fred. "We're not always up to mischief, you know."

"Please, I know you too well. Nice job with Mrs. Norris, by the way."

"That was you?" Henry asked, his eyes wide with awe.

Fred and George sported proud grins. "Of course it was! That cat's had it coming for weeks. It was Arlin's idea though."

Merlin ignored the slightly disapproving look from his wife while the others laughed.

"I never would have thought it of you, Arlin," said Caroline.

"Seriously, mate, you're supposed to be a prefect," Henry chuckled.

"Which is why I suggested the idea to Fred and George."

"Because getting other students in trouble is better than doing the dirty work yourself?" Perenelle asked with a frown.

Merlin bit his lip. "Well, I figured they wouldn't get caught, seeing as they're the best pranksters in the school."

Perenelle rolled her eyes but she was fighting a smile which indicated she'd forgiven Merlin for his bout of mischief. The warlock grinned and turned back to the twins.

"So, why are you heading to the village? I thought having an empty castle would be the perfect time to stage one last prank before the holidays."

"We're in need of supplies," George answered.

"Ah, I see," Merlin grinned. "Zonko's then?"

"Yep! And the Hog's Head," added Fred.

Merlin raised an eyebrow at that. Normally students went to the Three Broomsticks to socialize.

"You know there can be some shady figures in that pub."

"We've been in there before and managed alright," George said with a glint in his eye. "Well, best be off; come on Fred."

"Unless you've got another idea for us to try," Fred stalled.

Ah, so _that's_ what they were really fishing for. Merlin chuckled and thought a moment before shrugging in a nonchalant way.

"It might be hilarious to interrupt classes sometime with a snowball fight where the snowballs are throwing themselves."

The wicked glee that ignited in the twins' eyes was worth its weight in gold and Merlin found himself suddenly looking forward to the next term.

"Thanks, Arlin," Fred grinned, patting the warlock's shoulder.

"Yeah, we owe you one," George laughed, nodding in gratitude before following his twin up the road, the two bent close together and whispering future plans.

Perenelle shook her head in exasperation but didn't say anything. Henry, on the other hand, looked beyond excited.

"If they end up doing that, I can't wait to see the look on Snape's face when a snowball hits him right in the nose!"

The four of them burst out laughing as they entered the village. Caroline predictably dragged Henry off to have tea while Merlin and Perenelle started towards J. Pippin's Potions, the local apothecary shop. The place smelled of earth. Magical ingredients piled in jars, boxes, and pots sat along the many shelves. Merlin's magic sang happily to be surrounded by so many natural sources and the warlock smiled as he went about grabbing ingredients he felt he would need for both the fake Sorcerer's Stone and another brew of the Elixir for Perenelle; they'd been running low, just as he'd predicted.

His hands laden down with various powders and plants, Merlin went to the counter to pay while Perenelle continued to peruse the store. The clerk was a rather cantankerous old sod with tuffs of white hair coming out of his ears. He eyed the wares Merlin wanted to purchase and shook his head.

"Sorry, sonny, but you're not old enough to buy some of this."

Merlin almost smacked himself in the forehead. He'd forgotten he looked like a fifteen year old. Hogwarts students couldn't purchase things like sphinx hair and boomslang skin; such ingredients were only used in the most complicated of potions and only practiced potioneers with a license could obtain them. Merlin had a license, of course, but he couldn't very well show it since it displayed his identity as Nicolas Flamel. He decided to play dumb.

"Oh, really? I didn't know, sorry."

"Sure you didn't," the man groused as he removed half the stuff Merlin had selected.

Silently cursing, Merlin paid for what he _could_ buy and left the shop in a foul mood.

"I can't very well go back and grab the rest of the ingredients under a different disguise," he complained to Perenelle, "that clerk may be old but he's sharp. He'd think I paid off an adult and likely report it."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Snape's private stores are always well stocked."

"Merlin, you can't just steal!"

"I'm not going to. I'll leave money behind."

Perenelle frowned. "Fine, just make sure to wear gloves. The last thing we need is Snape using a fingerprint spell to track you down."

"Please, I'm not a juvenile, Nellie. I've survived this long and I've done far worse than steal from someone's supply cupboard."

"I know but that doesn't mean you should become hubristic."

"Wow, such a big word, Nellie. I'm impressed."

"Oh, shut up, you," she grumbled, playfully pushing him.

Merlin chuckled.

The two wandered through the village shops until they decided on a golden cauldron for Tina and a wizard's chess set – magical creature edition – for Newt. Once both presents were wrapped and packaged in brown paper, the couple headed towards the path that led to the Shrieking Shack. Trekking up and over the hill, they passed the broken house without pause, walking until they reached the cover of the trees. Merlin glanced back and covered their tracks with a new layer of snow before following his wife into the forest's shadows. They journeyed for another thirty minutes before coming across a suitable clearing. Perenelle found a nice fallen log to sit on while Merlin waded out into the knee-deep snow. Taking a deep breath, he dipped down into his magical reserves until he found the feral thread that connected him with his dragon kin. Throwing his head back, the guttural summons escaped his mouth in a ferocious roar, power radiating from him as the command rent the air.

" _ **O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"**_

They didn't have to wait long. Merlin was the first to hear it, the distant thrum of steady wing beats causing an excited stirring in his heart. Perenelle joined him in the snow and the two looked up as something white could be seen moving amidst the gray clouds swirling above their heads. The small speck grew into the form of a mighty beast with thick membrane wings, powerful limbs, and formidable claws. Aithusa was in her prime, the dragon only two decades younger than Merlin. She landed with grace, the last remaining of the great dragons of old. She was stunning, her white scales shaming the snow around her, the blue of her eyes changing constantly like that of the sea. Magic as pure and ancient as the Earth itself radiated from her body, enveloping Merlin like the comforting embrace of an old friend.

"Merlin, it has been many years," Aithusa greeted as she respectfully bowed. "Tell me, how fairs my Dragonlord?"

"As well as always, old friend," Merlin chuckled, rubbing her snout affectionately. "How are you, Aithusa?"

The dragon shifted a little and smiled. "I would be better if you'd call to visit me more often than once a century. Perenelle, it's good to see you, dear."

"And you, Aithusa. I've missed you."

"And I you. Now, why have you summoned me this time, Merlin? The last was when you needed advice about that evil wizard, Griswald."

"Grindelwald," Merlin corrected. "And I'm sorry I haven't called on you since then."

Aithusa's eyes filled with understanding and fondness as she replied, "I know why you haven't, Merlin. How can I help you?"

Merlin explained what was going on with Voldemort and their plan to stop his broken soul. Aithusa listened, nodding every now and then.

"I might need your help to make the fake stone seem real," Merlin finished.

"It shouldn't be too hard to do," Aithusa mused, "but you must be careful, Merlin. There is more at work here than you know. Something is stirring."

"What do you mean?"

"War is coming and I believe this Lord Voldemort will be the cause. You must be ready, Merlin. Even if you rid the world of this piece of his soul, there are others and they are not your destiny to destroy."

"I know," Merlin muttered, "but I'm not going to stand by while one so young has such a destiny on their shoulders. Harry Potter is younger than I was when Kilgharrah told me of my destiny. I don't want to see him fail."

"He won't," Aithusa assured, "if he remains true. He will need you, Merlin, before the end. Now, let us speak of happier things. Tell me, where is Newt and why didn't you bring him with you?"

The conversation turned to making plans of bringing Newt to visit Aithusa for Christmas and laughing at the dragon's tales of raising her children – which she'd made by mating with her draconic cousins the wyverns. After another hour, Merlin and Perenelle felt it prudent to head back to the school. Aithusa promised to remain in the area for when Merlin called her to complete the false stone and the three parted ways.

"You'd better hold to your promise of visiting her more often, Merlin," Perenelle warned as they shivered in their coats.

"I plan to, Nellie," Merlin muttered, his eyes on his feet. "It's just that… seeing her again –it makes me think of a lot of things I regret."

Perenelle took his hand and gently squeezed his fingers. "I know she's part of your past, Merlin, but she's also part of your present. She needs you just as much as you need her. You're both the last of your kind, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Merlin quietly whispered.

"Come on, let's go get a butterbeer from the Hog's Head before heading back. It'll warm us both up and I want to make sure Aberforth is committed to spending some time with Albus this holiday."

"You just want to bully him out of his stubbornness," Merlin laughed.

"You're right – but he does need to keep in touch. The two of them may not have that great of a relationship but they are brothers and I won't allow their pertinacity to get in the way of that connection."

Smiling adoringly at his wife, Merlin followed her back over the hill and into the town where an unsuspecting Aberforth was about to get quite a delightful tongue lashing.

[][][]

Later that night Merlin snuck out of Ravenclaw Tower using an invisibility spell. The castle was quiet, the portraits snoozing in their frames as snow fell peacefully outside the large glass windows. Merlin shivered and drew his cloak more tightly around himself. The frigid cold of the castle was even more prominent at night than during the day. He was halfway to his destination when a stroke of brilliance struck him on the head and the warlock chuckled.

"Arthur was right; I really _am_ an idiot."

Casting a heating spell that wrapped around his body like a cocoon, Merlin sighed in pleasure and continued on his way. It didn't take him long to reach the dungeons where Snape's private stores were kept. He wasn't surprised to find an alarm charm on the door. Disabling it with a flick of his finger, Merlin quickly glanced back and forth before slipping inside.

The walls were covered from top to bottom with shelves that contained what could very well pass as a fully stocked apothecary. Snape may be a right foul git but he was a brilliant potioneer. Merlin grinned in excitement before pulling a bag from his pocket and beginning to fill it with everything he felt he would need to make the false stone and more Elixir of Life. He was sorely tempted to take some very rare herbs but he refrained, sticking with getting the bare minimum of what he needed and leaving a pile of galleons behind.

He was almost finished when he heard the soft creak of the door opening. Merlin spun around and nearly had a heart attack when he came face to face with Snape. The Potion's Master held his lit wand over his head, observing his private store cupboard with narrowed eyes. Merlin didn't move, thanking every one of his lucky stars that he was still invisible. But then, to his horror, Snape stretched out his hand right towards where he was standing.

No, how could he –? Of course! The heating spell! It was a dead give away!

Panicking, Merlin's magic acted of its own accord and blasted Snape backward. Grabbing a handful of lacewing flies – the last thing he needed – Merlin ran from the room, leaving a rather incensed and agitated Potion's Master in his wake. As he ran, the warlock removed the heating spell, rushing up several flights of stairs. He heard Snape clamoring behind him; it was his own fault seeing as he wasn't exactly quiet in his retreat. He couldn't just slip into an empty classroom and wait for Snape to pass at this point either. Just as he was wondering what on earth he was going to do, Merlin turned the corner and collided with something very solid.

A hiss of pain escaped him as he fell on his backside, his bag of ingredients still clutched tightly to his chest. Merlin looked up and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Albus," he whispered as he stood up, "It's Nicolas."

"Nicolas? Why are you invisible?"

Merlin quickly explained the situation. An amused twinkle came into Dumbledore's eyes. Before he could say anything, however, Snape bounded around the corner.

"Headmaster!" he cried in surprise.

"Severus, what brings you out of your rooms at this late hour?"

"I was brewing a calming tonic for Professor Sinistra and ran out of some ingredients. But, when I arrived at my private stores, I found the door unlocked. Someone was there, Albus, though I don't know who."

"Are you sure of this?"

"Yes! They blasted me back with some kind of defensive spell and fled down the corridor. I was chasing them until I ran into you. Did you happen to see or hear anything unusual?"

"I'm afraid not, Severus – but, then again, I was deeply contemplating whether to invest in a knitted or crocheted sweater for the winter. The patterns are both rather nice – but I'm leaning more towards the hook than the needle. Which do you prefer?"

Snape stared and it took everything Merlin had not to bust up laughing. Dumbledore's comment was so disarming that it left the Potion's Master utterly befuddled.

"Erm… the intruder, Albus?" he prompted.

"Oh, right," Dumbledore muttered. "I don't think there is anything we can do at this point, Severus. Whoever they are, they're sure to be long gone; this castle has many nooks and crannies in which to hide. I'll alert the other teachers in the next staff meeting to be more aware on nighttime patrols."

"But what of my supplies?" Snape protested. "I'm sure whoever it was stole quite a bit of dangerous potions ingredients! If it was a student, they may be trying to make something illegal."

"I'll check with Madam Pince and see if anyone has checked out any dangerous potion books from the library," Dumbledore offered. "In the meantime, why don't you accompany me down to the kitchens? I was just on my way to get a bit of hot chocolate."

Snape looked like he'd swallowed something particularly foul but he knew arguing further with Dumbledore would be pointless. Refusing the offer, he bid the Headmaster goodnight and twisted around, disappearing around the corner like an overly large bat.

Merlin waited a moment before removing his invisibility spell. He shared a glance with Dumbledore before both let out a round of chuckles.

"Knitting or crocheting, Albus? Really?"

"I wasn't lying, Nicolas," Albus smiled. "It is quite a serious debate."

Merlin shook his head. "I'm sure it is. Well, thanks for covering for me."

"Anytime, my friend. Now, you'd best be off before another teacher catches you out of bed after hours. Not all of them are as lenient as I am concerning breaking school rules."

"As if you would ever give me detention, Albus," Merlin laughed.

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye grew as he shook his head.

"Goodnight, Nicolas, and good luck."

"Thanks."

They parted ways, Merlin heading off for Ravenclaw Tower and the Headmaster, no doubt, towards the kitchens.

[][][]

The Christmas holidays began and Merlin was happy to find his dormitory deserted, all of his dorm mates having gone home for the break. He wasted no time on making the false stone, pulling out the ingredients he needed and setting up a makeshift workspace on the floor near his bed. Perenelle came in at some point, kissing him as a way of greeting before settling on his bed with a book, leaving him to his work. Merlin smiled, enjoying her presence as his hands and magic worked to create what he hoped would be an object real enough to fool any dark wizard. It took all day but, as the late night hours began, Merlin sat back and wiped the sweat from his brow. Sitting on the floor was a small red stone, pulsing with magic but not enough to make one believe it to be the genuine article.

"It looks great, Merlin," Perenelle praised when she noticed he'd stopped muttering spells.

"Yes but it's not enough. As I suspected, I'll need Aithusa's help to finish it. Do you want to come with me on a nighttime stroll?"

Perenelle glanced out at the frozen weather and declined.

"How about I stay here and warm up the bed for when you get back?" she grinned.

Merlin plucked up the stone from the floor before kissing her lips.

"Sounds fair. I'll be back soon."

With a flash of his eyes, the warlock disappeared, transporting to the clearing he'd been in before. Aithusa was already waiting for him, a cheeky grin lifting the corners of her reptilian mouth.

"How did you know I'd be coming?" Merlin wondered.

"Please, the amount of old magic you've been using all day was like a beacon," Aithusa chuckled. "I wasn't sure if you'd need me but I thought it best to be prepared. You should be grateful. I've let at least twenty deer wander through the woods unscathed, denying my hunger."

"Then I'm assuming you're rather eager to get this over with?" Merlin teased.

"Place the stone in the snow, warlock," she commanded with a hint of annoyance.

Chuckling, Merlin did as asked before giving her enough room to work her magic. Aithusa stood and readied herself, her large shoulders loosening a bit before she took a deep breath and released it in a wave of pure magic. Merlin smiled, enjoying the comforting embrace of the wholesome force as it radiated through the air. He reveled to be so close to another displaying the same kind of magic flowing freely in his veins. It was like a mother's loving embrace. The stone absorbed Aithusa's magic like a sponge, the dull red surface instantly glistening similarly to the real thing as the magic took hold. Merlin walked forward and picked it up.

"What did you do to it?" he wondered, feeling the magic swirling beneath the surface.

"While this stone may look like the original you made, the only thing it can do is turn any metal into gold."

"I can think of plenty of people who would find that useful," Merlin chuckled. "Thank you, Aithusa."

"You're welcome, Merlin. Now, it is Christmas tomorrow, is it not?"

The warlock smirked. "Don't worry, Aithusa, I'll bring him."

"That is, after all, all I want for Christmas," Aithusa grinned.

Laughing, Merlin rubbed her snout affectionately before transporting back to Hogwarts. He didn't land in Ravenclaw Tower, however, but just within the trees of the Forbidden Forest. He had to go see Albus, after all, and he wasn't about to blow his cover by transporting directly outside his office. Trudging through the snow, he made it to the great oak front doors about ten minutes later. Hastening inside, he performed a temporary heating spell, sighing in relief as the feeling returned into his fingers and toes. Now dry, he set off for the Headmaster's office. It was after hours again but, even if a teacher caught him, he could simply say he was on his way to visit Dumbledore per the Headmaster's request. To his surprise and good fortune, he ran into no one, and it was a very happy warlock who later knocked on Dumbledore's door.

"Come in."

Merlin pushed the door open to find Dumbledore sitting behind his desk in a nightgown, holding something in his hands. Fawkes chirped happily at the sight of Merlin, flapping his wings in greeting.

"Ah, Nicolas, am I right to assume there is a false Sorcerer's Stone in your pocket?"

Merlin grinned and pulled it out, placing it on the Headmaster's desk.

"There you are; one false stone."

Dumbledore picked up the object and surveyed it was a fascinated eye.

"Remarkable… I would think it was the same thing if I hadn't known otherwise."

Merlin's smile grew. If he could fool Dumbledore, Voldemort didn't have a prayer of telling the difference.

"It has one magical property the original has," he said.

"Turning any metal into gold, I presume?"

Merlin nodded before his eyes landed on a very powerful magical object draped over Dumbledore's chair – the same one his old friend had been fingering when he came in.

"Albus, what is that?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Oh, this?" Dumbledore picked up the silver material and held it out to Nicolas. "It is an invisibility cloak. It belonged to James Potter. He let me borrow it before he passed away. I was entertaining the idea of returning it to his son, Harry, for Christmas."

Merlin took the cloak and held it with reverence. This was old. _Very_ old. The magic of the Old Religion flowed freely through every stitch. Who on earth had made this and how had James Potter come to be in possession of it? A family heirloom, perhaps? It was the only explanation. But did Harry's family really date back to the ancient times – _his_ time?

"It's beautiful," he whispered.

"I thought so," Dumbledore smiled. "Your little escapade two nights ago reminded me of it. I know Harry is young and he could be tempted to use it to cause a bit of mischief but… do you think I should give it to him now or wait a while?"

Merlin thought it over. Invisibility cloaks could be quite powerful but none were as powerful as this one. The magic with which it was made would last until the end of time. Merlin would know. Such a thing in the hands of an eleven year old seemed rather reckless – but then Merlin placed himself in Harry's shoes. If _he_ woke on Christmas morning to find a package containing something that had once belonged to his father, he would cherish it with all his heart.

"Give it to him," he heard himself say.

"Nicolas?"

Merlin looked up and fixed his friend with the most serious expression he could muster.

"Albus, give it to him."

Dumbledore studied him a moment before solemnly nodding.

"I can see you feel very strongly about this. Very well; I will."

Merlin smiled. "I know he'll appreciate it, Albus. Treasures of lost loved ones are priceless and never taken for granted."

"I'm sure you speak from experience?"

Merlin thought of Nogard, the carved dragon made by the hands of his father.

"Indeed I do, Albus," he murmured before shaking aside the sad thoughts and changing the subject. "So, is your enchantment ready?"

"I believe so," Dumbledore said, "though I need to run a few more tests to make absolutely certain it is. Give me a few days and then we'll be able to place it in the last chamber."

"Christmas is tomorrow, Albus," Merlin teased, "Did you lie when you said you'd have your end of the plan ready by that day?"

Dumbledore's mustache twitched a little and his eyes twinkled.

"I may have overestimated my timing but I promise it'll be worth the wait of a few more days."

Merlin smirked and said in mock seriousness, "If it's not, I'll be sorely tempted to write to the Daily Prophet and tell them I invented half of the twelve uses of dragon's blood."

"You would dishonor me with lies, Nicolas?"

Merlin chuckled. "No, I suppose I wouldn't. I like you too much."

"Thank heaven for that! I'd hate to be at odds with you."

Merlin pat his old friend on the shoulder.

"You should get some rest, Albus. It's late and you do have to spend part of the holiday with Aberforth tomorrow."

"Perenelle can be quite scary when she wants to be," Dumbledore lamented. "I have no choice but to please her. Why you married her, Nicolas, is beyond my comprehension. That woman could fell a country if she wanted to."

"The more reason why I love her," Merlin chuckled. "Goodnight, Albus."

"Goodnight, Nicolas."

Merlin made sure to pet Fawkes a couple of times before he left.

Returning to Ravenclaw Tower, he found Perenelle curled up on her side, her long hair draped over her shoulder as she slept soundly in his bed. Removing his glasses and school robes, Merlin blew out the candle she'd left on and settled in beside her, more than ready to sleep well into the morning. He was almost unconscious when he remembered what Aithusa wanted for Christmas. Sighing, the warlock whispered a spell, writing a message in air with his finger. The golden words stood out in the darkness, shimmering slightly. When finished, Merlin whispered another spell and waved his hand. The message vanished, leaving the room dark once more. Rolling onto his side, the warlock cuddled closer to his wife and finally drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Here it is, everyone: the chapter that influenced this entire fic! I have been waiting to get to this moment for MONTHS! I really hope what I've written satisfies you. Consider it an early Christmas gift from me. :)**

 *****If you haven't already, I request that you read my companion piece to this chapter, The Doorway.*****

 **Enjoy and please review!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or Harry Potter**

* * *

Chapter 07

The Heart's Desire

* * *

Merlin woke to a kiss. Smiling, he looped his arms around his wife's small torso and pulled her down onto his chest. A laugh escaped her as she fell on top of him.

"Happy Christmas, Merlin."

Merlin gently pushed a strand of caramel hair behind Perenelle's ear, staring up into her adorable hazel eyes. She wore an attractive red sweater that brought out her curves and a pair of dark jeans. She was positively beautiful.

"Happy Christmas, Nellie," he muttered huskily, kissing her again. Letting her go, they both shifted into a comfortable sitting position on the bed. Merlin looked at the snow-covered window. "What time is it?"

"Oh, near noon, I think."

"Noon? Really?"

"You shouldn't be so surprised. You did perform a lot of magic yesterday and I know how tired you get when you do. Newt replied to your message by owl. The poor thing's wings were half frozen when I let it in. It just left a couple minutes ago."

Merlin took the letter and read Newt's untidy scrawl. He looked at his watch and a grin shone on his face.

"They'll be here in about an hour."

"Great! That gives us enough time to open presents! Come on."

Like an excited child, Perenelle grabbed him by the hand and started tugging him towards the door. Merlin managed to curb her enthusiasm for a moment so he could get dressed. He also awakened Nogard, the small dragon flapping its wooden wings before soaring excitedly overhead, chirping happily as he followed Merlin and Perenelle down into the Ravenclaw common room. Perenelle had moved all the presents downstairs near the fireplace. It was a small pile but Merlin didn't mind. Excited, he sat down in front of his presents and unwrapped the first which was from Tina and Newt. A red scarf fell out of the paper. It was of quality make, the stitching along the edges a brilliant gold thread. Merlin grinned as he put it on, thinking of how upset his current house would be if they saw him sporting the supposed colors of Gryffindor.

The next present was from Dumbledore: a new chemistry set and a small crate full of rare herbs. Merlin chuckled, remembering how he'd voiced his annoyance to the Headmaster over being mistaken for a fifteen year old during his last Hogsmeade trip.

"That was nice of him," Perenelle commented with a laugh of her own as he showed her the gift. "Are you ready to open mine?"

The present was large, far larger than Merlin was expecting it to be. It was also squishy. Intrigued, he pulled the string away and out fell a masterfully quilted blanket. It was a royal blue, the material thick and soft, and in the center was an embroidered dragon in silver thread. Tears pooled in Merlin's eyes. He was staring at the crest Guinevere had made for him all those years ago, the silver dragon the exact same as the Pendragon crest with its neck bent and wings outstretched.

"Nellie…"

"Do you like it?"

Merlin looked up at her through his unshed tears before setting everything aside to kiss her.

"I love it," he muttered into her hair.

Perenelle's smile deepened and they shared another kiss before she set to work opening the present he had given her. It was a magic rose. Made of glass, its petals slowly changed color depending on the mood of whoever was holding it. The color yellow leaked through the clear petals until the entire flower radiated with happiness.

"Merlin," Perenelle whispered, "it's beautiful!"

Merlin grinned. "I'm glad you like it."

"I _love_ it! Thank you so much!"

Now that presents were done with, the old couple went back upstairs to dress in warm clothes appropriate for outside. There was a knock on the common room door and Merlin went to answer it. Newt and Tina stood there, smiles on their ancient faces. Hugs and greetings were exchanged before the four of them made their way down the empty castle corridors towards the great oak front doors.

"It really is good to see you two," Tina said as they walked.

"Likewise," Perenelle replied. "I can't tell you how hard it is pretending to be a fifteen year old again!"

"Oh, yes, I bet it's awful," Tina teased, "all that energy – I'd hate to experience that again."

"If you want, I could change you back to your younger selves for a bit," Merlin offered.

"I'd love that," Newt laughed, "though I don't know how Tina would feel about it – she did just complain about having energy."

"Oh, hush, you!" Tina muttered, swatting her husband's arm. "We'd love to be young again, Merlin."

"We'll have to wait until we're in the cover of the trees," Merlin said as they stepped out into the frozen tundra.

"That's fine. Say, thanks for the chess set, you two," Newt grinned. "I didn't even know they had a magical creatures edition."

"You should have seen him," Tina chuckled, "he was over the moon about it."

"I'm sure," Perenelle laughed.

It took a few minutes to get to the woods but once within the Forbidden Forest, Merlin removed his glasses, held up his hand towards his friends, and bent his magic to his will. It was remarkable to watch. Newt and Tina's wrinkles vanished, replaced with smooth skin, and their white hair returned to its original curly copper and straight brunette tint. Merlin made them look to be in their late twenties before doing the same to himself and Perenelle (also making sure to enlarge the clothes they were wearing since those of a fifteen year old would not fit someone in their twenties.)

Tina let out a sigh of pleasure as she felt her face and hair.

"It's been too long since I felt this young," she muttered.

Newt chuckled beside her, agreeing wholeheartedly.

"Shall we be off then?" Merlin asked as he slipped his fingers between Perenelle's, a boyish grin lighting his face.

The four of them set off again, perfectly at ease in a forest filled with dangerous creatures; Tina and Perenelle may not be able to communicate with them but they had no fear since they were with their husbands. The group didn't run into anything but they did hear the herd of centaurs galloping through the woods in the distance. Normally they would make their presence known but Merlin wasn't holding back his magic, allowing it to spread out around him like a blanket. The power of Emrys was unmistakable to the creatures; they both feared and respected it so, when felt, they knew it was best to leave well enough alone.

Aithusa was once again waiting for them in the designated clearing, her eyes staring unblinkingly at the party as they emerged from the woods. Newt stopped and bowed graciously to her but then his excitement got the better of him and he ended up running through the snow like a child towards her. When he was close enough, Aithusa lowered her head so he could embrace her snout.

"Aithusa, I have missed you," he muttered, tenderly stroking her scales.

"It has been many years, young one," she said. "I have missed you too. I would say you hadn't aged a day but I can feel Merlin's magic at work."

"A temporary fix, I fear," Merlin sighed as he too greeted his dragon. "They'll have to go back to being old fogies when it's time to leave."

"Who are you calling an old fogey?" Tina demanded. "You're older than all of us – including Aithusa!"

There was a round of laughter before the four of them settled on a blanket Perenelle had brought and Merlin had waterproofed so the snow wouldn't leak through the material. They spent the afternoon catching up, Aithusa telling Newt and Tina what she'd been up to for the last fifty years before the Scamanders returned the favor. Merlin and Perenelle enjoyed the scene, cuddling close together with contented smiles.

It was nice to be surrounded by old friends.

When the sun was getting lower, they bid Aithusa goodbye. The dragon pressed her snout into Newt's chest, knocking him over a bit with the powerful affection she showed.

"I will miss you, young one," she murmured, her eyes a little glassy.

Newt sniffled.

"Me too, Aithusa."

Noticing their tearful farewell, Merlin silently promised to visit Newt over the summer so he could spend more time with the dragon. She was the greatest magical creature the man had ever had the pleasure of meeting and, for someone like Newt, that was comparable to meeting an idol.

" _Thank you, Merlin,"_ Aithusa's thoughts whispered within his mind. _"This was the happiest Christmas I've had in a long time."_

" _I'm glad,"_ he mentally replied. " _I'll visit you again soon, Aithusa. I promise."_

" _I should hope so."_

The witches and wizards left the noble beast, trudging through the darkening forest back to Hogwarts castle. Merlin lifted the de-aging spell on Newt and Tina and transformed himself and Perenelle back into fifteen year olds before they stepped out of the Forbidden Forest onto the grounds. It was decided that the Scamanders would stay with them for Christmas dinner and, once within the castle walls, Merlin called for a house elf, asking them to bring up a private meal for four in the Ravenclaw common room. The elf was only too happy to do Emrys's bidding, bowing and disappearing with a loud crack.

Tiptoeing past the Great Hall where there were a few students within enjoying their own holiday meal, Merlin led the others back up to Ravenclaw Tower. Newt and Tina were both fascinated with the interior, neither having been inside before.

"This is way different compared to Hufflepuff's common room," Newt commented.

"I feel like I'm in a library," Tina muttered as she perused a nearby bookshelf.

"Well, Ravenclaws are known for being smart," Merlin chuckled.

"And what's so wrong with being a Ravenclaw?" Perenelle demanded, pretending offense.

"Nothing, sweetheart. If you forget, I'm a Ravenclaw too."

"You're everything, Merlin."

The warlock grinned. "I suppose so."

Nogard flew down from a perch he'd been snoozing on, resting on Newt's shoulder.

"Hey, Nogard!" the Magizoologist cried in delight. "I haven't seen you in a long time! Still putting up with grumpy old Merlin?"

"I'm not grumpy!"

Food appeared then and everyone settled around a small table to enjoy a hearty meal. Merlin became a little melancholy as the scene somewhat reminded him of countless feasts within Camelot's glorious halls where knights laughed, servants served, and a certain king teased his manservant. He tried not to dwell on the sadness that was slowly winding around his heart, instead focusing on the blessings he had now: a beautiful wife and two incredible friends. The evening became cheerful once more and, after dinner, he and Newt played a few games of wizard chess while the girls talked near the fire.

While they played, Merlin brought Newt up to speed on how things were going with the Sorcerer's Stone and Quirrell's involvement with Voldemort.

"I never would have believed it," Newt muttered, stunned by these revelations. "Quirrell never struck me as the dark wizard type."

"No but if there's one thing I've learned in all my years of life, it's that people are more complex than we give them credit for," Merlin sighed as he claimed one of Newt's pawns.

"True," Newt agreed. "Do you really think this false stone of yours will fool him?"

"It fooled Albus," Merlin grinned, "and if it fooled the most powerful wizard of the age then it'll certainly fool Voldemort."

"As great as Dumbledore is, I think that title still belongs to you, Merlin," Newt chuckled.

"Yes but I don't count. You know that, Newt."

"Yes, yes, I know; no desire to let the Wizarding World know that the Great Merlin still walks among us," he teased before sobering, "I just hope this plan of yours works."

"It'll work," he said with confidence.

Newt studied him a moment more before nodding.

"Well, let me know if you need any help."

"You know I will," Merlin kindly replied.

It was an hour later that a red and gold feather appeared before the Magizoologist.

"Looks like that's our cue to leave," he muttered.

Merlin glanced at his watch. "Half past ten. I'd say that's a record, wouldn't you, Nellie?"

"Don't you dare tease him, Merlin," Perenelle admonished. "I think it's sweet that he spent that much time with Abe."

"How can you be sure Albus didn't just drop in on him and then leave for another party?"

"I'll ask him in the morning," Perenelle shrugged.

"I'd like to see that," Newt chuckled, he and Merlin both imagining Dumbledore quelling under Perenelle's interogation.

"Too bad you won't," said Tina as she stood up and stretched her aching muscles. "We'd best shuffle along, Newt. It's going to take a while for us to get all the way to Dumbledore's office with these old bones. We don't want to keep the man waiting."

"I could transport you outside his door," Merlin offered but Newt turned him down.

"Right after he sent the feather? Like that wouldn't spark any questions. Besides, it's always a pleasure to visit the halls of Hogwarts. I don't get to do so as often as you."

Merlin chuckled before embracing him.

"Take care of yourself, Newt."

"You too, Merlin. And if you need me…"

"I know how to find you."

Tina gave the warlock a good squeeze too before she and Newt shuffled from the room at a leisure pace. Perenelle came over and wrapped her arm around Merlin's back, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"You know, one of the great things about being married to you is that I don't have to spend all my time with aching joints."

"Yeah, getting old is a real drag," Merlin laughed before kissing her head. "Come on, let's go to bed."

"Tired, are you?"

Merlin scooped her legs out from underneath her, his other arm coming up to support her back.

"Merlin!" she cried in surprise, looping her arms around his neck.

"Who said I was tired?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively before carrying her up the stairs.

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Merlin woke with a start.

Many years ago, when he was nothing more than a boy, he'd been woken by a feeling such as this. His stomach leapt with glee and his magic surged with anticipation, coursing nervously through his veins. Something powerful was calling to him – a magic the likes of which he hadn't felt since the Mage Stone had been used in Camelot.

His heart pounding furiously, Merlin quietly slipped out of bed so as not to wake Perenelle. He hastily dressed, throwing on his black robes and glasses before quickly tiptoeing from the room. The remains of Christmas dinner had been cleared away by the house elves, their cleaning magic still permeating the air. Merlin sped through the magical haze, pushing the door open and practically spilling out into the stairwell. Regaining his balance, he set off at a run, his magic guiding him towards the unknown source like a siren's call.

The darkness of night could still be seen through the castle windows, the grounds bathed in snow that glittered in the pale moonlight. Merlin had to avoid Filch and Mrs. Norris once on the fifth floor but other than that, he ran into no one. He reached the end of a corridor on the fourth floor and the magical pull grew, if possible, even stronger. Whatever was calling to him was just ahead.

In his frenzied haste to answer the call, Merlin noisily tripped. Hissing while rubbing his knee, he was about to get up when a door creaked open. Not wanting to be discovered by a teacher, the warlock set up an invisibility spell but, to his bewilderment, no one entered the hallway. He remained still, however, (one could never be too careful) and then he heard a rustling sound, like fabric gliding across the floor. It quickly passed him by, fading away as it turned the corner. Merlin was just beginning to wonder over the strangeness of it all when the powerful magic returned. It was coming from the door that was now open. Merlin stood, removed his invisibility spell, and cautiously entered what turned out to be an empty classroom.

The space was unused, the walls lined with desks and chairs, an upturned waste paper basket nestled in a corner. What caught Merlin's attention, however, was the object resting on the wall opposite to the door.

It was a mirror, beautifully carved and as high as the ceiling, its frame covered in gold and its feet in the shape of two handsome claws. Written across the top were words in a language Merlin had never seen before – and that was saying something since he'd thought he'd known every dialect there was to know over the centuries. The words read: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_. Intrigued, Merlin crossed the room and stopped before the mirror.

As he stared into the surface, a shape began to form, a figure walking steadily towards him. Merlin's whole world came to a crashing halt. Standing in the mirror was a man he hadn't seen in centuries. Golden hair rested over a pair of blue eyes like a crown. Chainmail covered the muscular chest, hidden partially beneath a rich red cape. A magnificent sword was nestled against one hip under a plain brown leather belt.

Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot and the other half of Merlin's soul, stood in the mirror, confusion shining in his royal blue eyes.

Merlin's shock transformed into tears as centuries of heartbreak and sorrow slammed into him, battering his soul like a rampaging dragon. The need to touch his King surged through his heart and Merlin stepped closer to the mirror, raising his hand. Arthur copied him, his gloved palm resting against the cold surface. The lack of warmth that followed was devastating. Merlin longed to push the glass aside and reach his brother but knew he couldn't. The magic in the mirror would deny him his wish; of that he somehow knew. Arthur seemed to realize this too, for his own frown and sorrow deepened.

The reality that Arthur was there but unable to touch him was another blow to his already bleeding heart and Merlin fell to his knees, his hand remaining on the glass as it slid down the surface. To his surprise, Arthur again mirrored him – as if he wanted to remain on Merlin's eye level, like an equal.

Merlin unconsciously pressed his other hand to the glass and then his forehead. Arthur copied him. Unspoken questions swirled within the king's gaze for a moment but then, to Merlin's surprise, the confusion transformed into gratitude. A smile lifted his features and Merlin was swept up in an embrace he didn't think was possible to feel. It was Arthur's love for him, the affection so palpable that it left the warlock utterly speechless. Merlin had never truly known the extent of how Arthur felt about him but now he did. The unmistakable fondness was like some kind of personal brand of healing, soothing his aching heart and restoring the hope that had been dwindling for centuries within his breast.

Despite everything, Arthur still valued him. He still cared about him.

Arthur's love, however, soon returned to confusion and the warlock could somehow understand what his king was trying to convey. He wanted to know what had happened to the warlock but Merlin couldn't answer him; it was pointless. He somehow knew that even if he tried to communicate, his voice would not penetrate through the glass. All he could express was loss and anguish. So he did, pulling his forehead away from the mirror's surface so he could gaze more fully at his king.

Arthur began to scrutinize his appearance, his confusion mounting further. Merlin's heart again compressed from the cruelty of being denied full communication. A sob ripped from his throat.

"Nicolas, whatever it is you are seeing, it is not real."

Merlin's heart leapt and he turned away from Arthur. Dumbledore was standing a few paces behind him. Removing his hands from the mirror, Merlin stood and faced his friend.

"Albus," he whispered, his voice raw from suppressed sobs.

Dumbledore studied him, pity and concern swirling behind his half moon spectacles.

"The Mirror of Erised," he explained. "It shows us the deepest and most desperate desires of our hearts. Many men have wasted away before it."

"I can see why," Merlin sniffled.

Even now he wanted nothing more than to stay in front of the mirror forever; it meant he could be with Arthur again.

"Nicolas, I am sorry. I didn't expect the mirror to have such an effect on you."

Merlin let out a watery chuckle.

"I honestly wasn't expecting to see Arthur," he mumbled. "It's not your fault, Albus. I was caught off guard."

"Arthur? A friend of yours?"

Merlin stiffened. Oh no. He'd just…!

But… was it really so bad, telling Albus the actual truth? He'd just seen Merlin at his worst, after all. He was bound to have questions and, frankly, Merlin was tired of hiding.

"Arthur is my King," he whispered, unable to deny himself from glancing back at the mirror. Arthur was now standing, watching him silently.

The image was too much. The feelings coming from the magical object even more so. This mirror was dangerous. Merlin needed to get away before it was too late - because he wanted to stay.

 _Oh, how he wanted to stay!_

It truly felt like Arthur was just on the other side of that glass. Merlin hadn't felt this close to his destiny since the day Arthur died. His whole soul screamed at him to remain, temptation slamming into him from all sides. He was so close to his king - _so very close_ \- and yet he felt the undeniable separation. He may be able to see Arthur but he couldn't hear him, speak with him, interact with him. If he remained here, the relationship he'd have with the image in the mirror would be nothing but a shadow of what he truly wanted. He needed to leave.

But... what was so bad about staying? Even if it would never be as fulfilling as having Arthur beside him, at least he could _see_ him.

But that wasn't enough! Just seeing Arthur would _never_ be enough! He'd seen the Prat plenty of times in his pensive and, even with the added experience of hearing him, every time he retreated from his memories, he was left wanting.

But Arthur was right there... _so very close._..

 _NO!_ This was not what he wanted! Dumbledore told him it wasn't real. What he was seeing wasn't real. Arthur wasn't really there. He ignored the way his heart clenched in denial at the thought. He should to leave. He needed to leave.

"It is not wise to remain, Nicolas," Dumbledore voiced, concern and warning in his tone.

The outside intervention from his warring thoughts was exactly what Merlin needed to hear. He knew what he needed to do.

With all the strength he had left, one last time, the warlock raised his hand against the glass. Tears cascaded down his cheeks. It was like he was saying goodbye all over again. Arthur pressed his gloved palm against the surface, his own gaze reflecting Merlin's longing. Merlin's tears doubled. He had to leave, _now_ , before he completely gave in to the whisper to stay, to remain a captive of the mirror's power. Pulling his hand away, he turned from the image of the one he desired most and walked dejectedly towards the door, his whole body racked with sobs. Every step was like a knife in his heart.

He didn't make it very far. Falling to his knees in the abandoned corridor, he allowed his anguish to escape him. The pain, the hurt, the longing; emotions he hadn't felt in such magnitude in centuries spilled over the surface like water boiling over the lip of a pan. Though he didn't know it, a storm began to rage outside - a blizzard which shook the windows of the castle.

Merlin wasn't even aware of Dumbledore holding onto him; his mind was harrowed up, lost in memory, lost in sorrow. The image of the boat on the Lake of Avalon drifting away from him repeated over and over, Arthur constantly leaving him heartbroken on the shore. Along with the heartbreak came guilt and shame. He was responsible for Arthur's death. If he hadn't spent so much time driving back the Saxons, he could have found Mordred and stopped the prophecy. He could have reached Arthur in time. But he hadn't and now all was lost.

Arthur was gone.

 _Gone…_

"Nicolas, you must calm yourself."

The voice was far away but somewhat familiar; a friend?

"That's it; breathe."

Merlin focused on breathing in and releasing the air from his lungs and, after a while, the raging grief began to calm, the turbulence of his magic settled, and his sense of the present was restored. He was sitting in the middle of a corridor on the fourth floor in Hogwarts castle, wrapped in the arms of Albus Dumbledore. How had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered was –

The mirror of Erised – Arthur – having an emotional breakdown –

"Oh no," he murmured.

"Shhh, it's alright, Nicolas."

Merlin shook his head and removed the glasses from his face.

"No, Albus," he whispered.

He was so tired of lying, so tired of hiding. His heart may be thumping wildly in his chest from what he was about to do but he knew it was right. Dumbledore deserved the truth, especially after that display.

"My name is not Nicolas." He paused, taking a shuttering breath. "My name… is Merlin."


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you all very much for your reviews last chapter! They really lifted my spirits and made me smile. :) As koala789 most amply put it, I couldn't just drop that cliffhanger bomb on you all and walk away. So, here's another chapter for you before Christmas. :) Please review as a Christmas present to me. (Blinks hopefully with hands clasped together)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter**

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Chapter 08

Reminiscence

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Silence reigned for a full ten seconds as Dumbledore scrutinized him. Merlin couldn't meet his friend's eyes. He'd been lying to Dumbledore since the day they'd met. Always lying, always hiding. He had to, out of necessity, but it still hurt. Merlin never enjoyed betraying people's trust. Revealing who he really was to Albus hadn't been as emotionally draining as revealing his magic to Arthur but it was a close second. Merlin had been friends with Albus for almost a century now. That was a long time to lie to someone.

"I think it would be best to continue this conversation in my office," Dumbledore finally muttered.

His voice wasn't harsh but neither was it cheerful. It was neutral, a tone Merlin had only heard from his friend when he was trying to be as aloof as possible during a dire situation. Nodding in agreement, Merlin replaced his glasses and stood, following the headmaster in silence, his head bowed while his feet dragged across the ground. They reached his office a few minutes later.

Merlin moved to sit in the chair opposite the headmaster's desk when Dumbledore stopped him.

"Not there… Merlin," he said, pausing hesitantly on the warlock's name.

Merlin turned as the wizard conjured two squashy purple armchairs before the fireplace. Indicating for Merlin to join him, the headmaster sat and waved his wand again. A kettle and a couple of cups flew from a cupboard and, a moment later, Merlin was offered a steaming cup of freshly made tea. He took it with slightly shaking hands but made no attempt to drink the contents. He'd probably spill most of it on himself with how nervous he was feeling. Fawkes let out a soft chirp before flying from his perch to where Merlin sat. The phoenix settled on his armchair and nuzzled him with his head. Old magic transferred from the bird to the warlock and Merlin's nerves settled as it embraced him. Sighing, he closed his eyes, reveling in the comfort it brought.

He didn't become aware of Dumbledore staring at him until the euphoria started wearing off. Glancing at the headmaster and finding him victim to his x-ray stare, Merlin quickly lowered his gaze and fiddled with his tea cup.

"So…" he paused in an attempt to swallow what felt like a Quaffle in his throat, "I suppose you have questions?"

Dumbledore set his empty cup of tea aside and brought his hands together in his lap, his fingertips touching.

"Indeed," he murmured. "Am I to assume the one you saw in the Mirror of Erised was the legendary King Arthur?"

Merlin blinked. He hadn't expected this to be Dumbledore's first question; not in the slightest.

"You mean… you believe me?" he asked wondrously.

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes returned as he sent Merlin a warm smile.

"No one in the Wizarding World would dare make such an audacious claim as you have – and your earlier emotions were not a performance. I cannot deny the truth I have seen. I believe you are exactly who you proclaim to be."

Merlin sat back in his chair, stunned. Dumbledore believed him and he didn't even seem upset over it. A weak chuckle escaped his lips.

"You truly are one of a kind, Albus," he muttered, shaking his head. "Thank you – for believing me. I've carried this secret for so long. It's become second nature for me to lie." He paused, his sorrow growing tenfold. "A necessity for one such as myself…" he quietly added.

Dumbledore's eyes saddened as he stared pityingly at his old friend.

"My dear man, you have been alive this whole time?"

Merlin nodded solemnly.

"But how?" Dumbledore asked incredulously. "The Sorcerer's Stone?"

Merlin shook his head, a bitter smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"No man in their right mind would try out immortality and keep it up, Albus – It's really not worth it – And while the Sorcerer's Stone _does_ give one the ability to live forever, my immortality started many years before I invented it. During the Battle of Camlann, to be precise."

"Where King Arthur met his end?" Dumbledore delicately inquired.

"Yes," Merlin whispered, his heart constricting. "Morgana stole my magic using a creature from the Old Religion. I went to the Crystal Cave, the birthplace of magic, to get it back. While there, I had to embrace who I truly was and it was then that my immortality began – though I didn't know it at the time. It was only as my peers began to age that I realized the curse I would be forced to endure."

"But why?"

Merlin sent his friend another bittersweet smile.

"I am meant to wait for my king."

"Of course," the headmaster murmured, eyes lit with understanding, "The ancient prophecy – the one that speaks of King Arthur's return."

Merlin nodded. "Perenelle and I have contemplated various reasons as to why I couldn't just return as Arthur will. Personally, I think I was meant to wander among men to gain experience and understanding that will help Arthur adjust when his time comes."

"A world such as this will definitely be different from his own."

"That's an understatement," Merlin sighed. "His lack of knowledge to everything in the modern world is not going to do me any favors. Trust the Prat to make my life difficult."

Dumbledore looked both amused and surprised by Merlin's title for such a great king. Noticing his expression, Merlin chuckled.

"I suppose I should explain our history – if you have the time?"

Dumbledore eagerly settled in for the tale, his enthusiasm clear in his excited smile and the magnified twinkle behind his half moon spectacles.

"I have all the time in the world for this, my friend. I have read the legends but to hear your story firsthand is a privilege and an honor."

"You flatter me," Merlin replied before his face fell and he whispered, "I fear the truth is going to dash the heroic image I have been given in the Wizarding World."

"Let me be the judge of that," Dumbledore kindly requested.

Merlin shrugged. His tale was dark and filled with failure. Part of him didn't want Dumbledore to know but a greater part longed to share the side of himself that was so carefully guarded. He had Perenelle, Newt, and Tina, but to have another understand… it would be a welcome relief.

And so he began, briefly sharing the joys of his simple childhood before transitioning into the reason behind his journey to Camelot and the adventures he had with Arthur and the others once there. Dumbledore was a great listener. He allowed Merlin to pause and grieve when certain memories delicately tugged at his heartstrings and tear ducts. He also laughed along with him at hilarious tales such as the time Arthur gained a troll for a stepmother.

Sharing the experience of Arthur's death was difficult, the shame and loss cutting into Merlin's soul as deeply as it had the first time he'd experienced it. Dumbledore had produced a handkerchief which Merlin had been all too grateful to use. Speaking of the deaths of his other friends and family was also hard but it got easier to confess his life as he left the destruction of Camelot behind. He didn't go into deep detail of his history after that, just feeling the need to say he was there for many of the major events that took place in both the Muggle and Wizarding Worlds. When he got to the time he'd met Perenelle, Dumbledore was surprised to learn that he was in his last year at Beauxbatons when she started.

"And she loved you from the first time she saw you?" Dumbledore chuckled.

"Yep," Merlin smiled, his eyes softening with love. "I wasn't completely oblivious to her advances but, being who I am, I knew I could never engage in them."

"Well, that obviously backfired," Dumbledore deadpanned.

The two shared a round of laughter before Merlin explained how Perenelle had figured out the truth and how, despite his better judgment, he decided to marry her.

"Is that why you created the Sorcerer's Stone? To keep her alive because you knew that otherwise she would age and you would not?"

"Actually, the Sorcerer's Stone was my attempt to get _rid_ of my immortality," Merlin bitterly chuckled. "Clearly that failed. Some of my immortal magic somehow transferred into it instead, granting Nellie the ability to become somewhat like me. We've been together for so long, Albus. I don't know what I would do if I lost her. If anything were to happen to the Stone… I don't think I could actually make another one."

"Nor do I feel it wise for you to do so," Dumbledore muttered, still slightly surprised by the reason behind the Stone's existence. But, seeing his friend's distress for his wife, he put the contemplations of the woes of immortality aside and leaned forward, taking Merlin's hand. "Voldemort will never get the Stone, Merlin. I promise you that."

"Thank you, Albus," Merlin whispered, his voice hoarse.

The headmaster sat back and observed him a moment more before a grin lifted his ancient mustache.

"You were right about one thing, my friend," he chuckled. "The legends do not do you justice. You are the greatest man I have ever had the privilege of knowing and I am truly humbled and honored to be counted as one of your friends."

Once again Merlin was stunned. It was difficult to find a person who had such a forgiving heart. Dumbledore hadn't been remotely upset about being lied to for their whole friendship. In fact, he held nothing but awe and slight pity for the ancient warlock. While Merlin didn't want to be pitied, he could understand it was a natural response to his tale.

"I cherish our friendship just as deeply as you, Albus," he stated, his heart warm. "Thank you."

The first rays of dawn then decided to poke their way through the windows, alerting both men to the fact that they had been conversing all night. Frowning, Merlin let out a bone-weary sigh before a yawn escaped his throat.

"Another all-nighter," he sighed, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. "I'm getting too old for this."

Dumbledore chuckled. "At least it's the holidays and you don't have classes to attend to."

"Thank goodness for that," Merlin grinned but then the smile slipped from his face and he groaned.

Dumbledore's brow furrowed.

"Merlin?"

"Next term is going to be an annoying nightmare," he grumbled. "The one bad thing about returning to school so often is having to endure fifth year."

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye deepened as he laughed.

"It truly is ironic. You know more than even the O.W.L. examiners do. I admit, I would find that all rather frustrating."

"You don't know the half of it," Merlin complained, "Having to pretend I'm a novice; it's torture! I could skip every class and still receive top marks from the teachers!"

"Well, maybe next time you could just skip the lessons and simply _be_ a teacher."

Merlin shrugged. "I might just take you up on that. Ask me again after I graduate – _again_ – in two years."

They shared another laugh before both decided it was time to head to bed; even if it was the early hours, they could still sleep into the afternoon. The old friends stood and Merlin shook Dumbledore's hand. A thought occurred to him and he suddenly grinned.

"Say, do you mind if I transport into your office for future visits?"

Dumbledore seemed both amused and intrigued by the idea.

"You can apparate within the school?"

"Not apparate," Merlin corrected, " _transport_. It's an ancient way of magically traveling. Only those with Old Magic can do it and the Old ways are not restricted by the New magic you wizards use today. No need to worry, though; transporting is harmless. It does cause a small gust of wind, however. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

Dumbledore was clearly fascinated and intrigued over the Old magic to which he was referring. The magic of the Old Religion was the mother magic of what was used in the world today, a force that none but Merlin really understood or had the capability to use. To have a wizard before him that could use it; Merlin knew it tickled every fiber of Dumbledore's curiosity. He suspected the headmaster wanted to ask more about it but now wasn't the time to get into another lengthy discussion and both of them knew it.

"As long as no one else is here, I don't see why you can't transport in future," Dumbledore smiled.

Merlin grinned. "I'll scry before I come – unless it's an emergency, of course."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement and Merlin gathered his magic to prepare to leave when a thought occurred to him.

"Hmmm, before I go…" He looked around at the portraits on the walls. "Hey, you lot! I know you've been awake this whole time so listen up!" The previous headmasters and headmistresses immediately shifted into awake positions, all of them staring at Merlin with renewed interest and awe. Merlin smirked. "What I'm about to do is not due to lack of trust but precaution."

Dumbledore was just as confused by these words as the portraits but everyone gasped when the warlock's eyes shifted a brilliant gold; he'd forgotten to replace his glasses which still rested in his hand.

" _ **Ásælan sé sóþsegen. Ámeldian rúnian sylfum sé æ sylfum Emrys ábídan wiðinnan þás bodig."**_

A wave of magic erupted from his form, swirling around the room and seeping into every portrait. The headmasters and headmistresses gasped in shock, feeling the magic bind with what was already there, weaving itself like a golden thread into the fabrics of their existence.

"What did you just do?" Phineas Nigellus demanded.

Merlin's smile was grim as he answered, "I have bound you all in such a way that the secrets of my life shall never leave your portraits. And before you think you've found a loophole, the spell blocks you from revealing anything about me in other frames – including your sister portraits – as well as any who decide to visit your frames."

"You don't trust us!" a headmistress declared, hurt and angry.

"On the contrary," Merlin smiled. "I have not done anything to prevent you from speaking of me in this room. I am offering you a chance to keep my secret of your own free will. However, if I find that you have shared who I am with anyone without my permission, I will obliterate your portrait from existence and obliviate every person you spoke to. Do we understand each other?"

Wide-eyed, they all agreed.

"Good," said Merlin cheerfully before turning back to his friend. "I'll bid you good night, then, Albus – or, good morning, I suppose."

"Likewise, Merlin," Dumbledore said, still overawed by the magic he'd just witnessed.

With a slight nod and a friendly pat on Fawkes' head, Merlin's eyes once again turned gold and he transported back to Ravenclaw Tower, leaving an office full of rather astounded Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses behind.

[][][]

Perenelle was positively thrilled when Merlin revealed that Dumbledore now knew the truth. She'd also been rather intrigued about the Mirror of Erised but the haunted look in Merlin's eye prevented her from suggesting seeking it out again. Part of Merlin wondered just what the mirror was doing in an abandoned classroom but he didn't really want to dwell on the subject. Every time he thought of it, he thought of Arthur's sad countenance and the separation between them.

Merlin didn't want to admit it aloud but he was depressed. The encounter with Arthur had been so _real_. It was supposed to just be an enchantment but, for some reason, he couldn't help but feel that the image of Arthur in the Mirror of Erised wasn't really an image. He truly felt that the king had been on the other side of the glass. It honestly had been the closest he had felt to Arthur since his death and it was having profound effects on the warlock's heart. Perenelle had noticed the difference immediately and, knowing him well, didn't press him but simply showed her love by staying near his side. When Merlin was ready to talk he would, but, for now, he just wanted to drown in his melancholy.

Part of him was desperately tempted to find the mirror again but he knew it would do no good. Dumbledore had warned that men had wasted away before it, that what people saw in it wasn't real.

But then why did Merlin feel differently?! It was frustrating beyond belief! Arthur had been there, he was _sure_ of it! And he wanted to go back, to be in front of Arthur again, to try to talk to him - even if he knew, deep down, that it would be impossible.

It had been two days since he'd been in front of the mirror and he was about ready to crack. He and Perenelle were sitting in the Ravenclaw common room, the latter reading a book about magical creatures, when the warlock's emotions spilled over. Merlin leapt to his feet and started to pace.

"It was him, Nellie, I _know_ it was!" he cried, running his hands through his short hair. "Albus said that it wasn't real but he was wrong. It was Arthur. I _know_ it. I felt him."

"Merlin," Perenelle began, "I'm not saying that it wasn't him but you said so yourself that you couldn't communicate. You could only stare at each other. Perhaps the Mirror of Erised granted you a gift of being able to see him on the other side?"

"A gift that has decided to haunt me!" Merlin snapped, falling back into his chair and holding his head in his hands. "I miss him, Perenelle," he whispered brokenly, "I miss him _so much."_

And then he was sobbing, the floodgates of his aching heart bursting open and displaying his agony the only way it could. He was vaguely aware of his wife wrapping her arms around him, so caught up was he in his grief.

He hadn't felt like this in a long time, so lost, so hurt, so angry. His magic flared and the fire shot up through the chimney in a column of dangerous flame.

"Merlin!" Perenelle cried as she pushed them away from the fireplace.

"Sorry," Merlin said as he hastily calmed both the fire and his magic. "Sorry," he mumbled again, wiping his eyes.

"Oh, Merlin," she muttered, gently kissing him. "It's alright to miss him."

"You would think, after hundreds of years, I would be at peace…"

"You'll never truly be at peace until you're reunited," Perenelle sadly consoled. "But you have ways of coping with the separation. Why not revisit your memories? I know it's hard for you but I've seen it help in the past. And even if you won't exactly be able to talk to Arthur, at least you'll be able to hear his voice and see him in happier times than standing longingly behind enchanted glass."

Merlin sighed. Part of him immediately rejected her idea, knowing the hurt it would bring, but a deeper part needed to see Arthur again and what better way to do that than through his pensive?

"Alright, Nellie," he agreed. "But after dinner, alright?"

She kissed his cheek and smiled.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"No," Merlin muttered, "If it's alright, I'd like to be alone this time."

"That's perfectly fine, Merlin. Do what you need to do. Just know that I'll be here when you get back."

Merlin smiled, love filling his countenance as he squeezed her tight.

"Thank you, Nellie. I love you."

"I love you too."

Some hours later, they'd just finished their private dinner when an unexpected visitor graced Ravenclaw Tower.

"Albus!" Perenelle greeted with some surprise as she and Merlin abandoned their table to approach the headmaster just as the door closed behind him. "I don't believe I've ever seen you in here before."

Dumbledore smiled kindly in greeting.

"I pray I'm not intruding?"

"Not at all," Merlin assured. "What can we do for you?"

Dumbledore surveyed the warlock's slightly haggard appearance. Merlin looked away, uncomfortable. He hadn't left the tower since he'd left the headmaster's office. It was partially because he really didn't want to talk about his past again and feared that would happen the next time he ran into his friend.

"I wanted to let you know that my protection is finally ready."

Merlin's head snapped up. "Really?" he asked, surprised. Given their last encounter, he hadn't expected to hear this. "Why didn't you just send a feather? I could have come to you; there wasn't a need to hike up all those stairs."

"If a man as old as you can do so on a daily basis I believe one as young as myself possesses plenty of energy to climb the staircase once every decade or so," Dumbledore smiled. "Besides, it's been a while since I visited this common room and, while I _was_ in Gryffindor, Ravenclaw would have been my second choice."

"It's a good house," Perenelle smiled before prompting, "So, you wanted to tell us about your protective enchantment?"

"Yes," Dumbledore sobered, apologetically glancing at Merlin as he said, "It involves the Mirror of Erised."

Merlin stiffened and Perenelle took his hand, squeezing his fingers.

Dumbledore delicately explained, "Voldemort's greatest desire is immortality and since the Sorcerer's Stone would give him this, I had no doubt he would see himself with the Stone should he look in the mirror. I therefore had the brilliant idea of placing the false stone inside it. Any with the intention of using it would merely see themselves with the stone while any who wished to have it but not use it would obtain it."

"That _is_ a brilliant idea," Perenelle agreed. "Merlin? What do you think?"

"The magic is definitely advanced enough to fool Voldemort," he mused after a pause. "I take it took so long to put this together because you needed to find the mirror and see if your spell would work with its magic?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"I read about the Mirror of Erised over the summer. It took a bit of research to find it and, once I did, I had to see if it truly lived up to its purpose. I figured an abandoned classroom would be the most discreet place to conduct my experiments but, alas, I was wrong. Just when I was about to start, Harry Potter entered the room." Dumbledore paused and smiled. "It seems temptation was too great for the boy to resist. He used his father's cloak to sneak around the castle after hours. He must have been on the run from Argus and hid in the classroom by chance. Luckily it does not take an invisibility cloak to make myself invisible or I would have been discovered. Oblivious to my presence, Harry was there for quite some time – until there was a noise in the hall. He promptly left and then, to my further surprise, you walked in, Merlin."

Merlin vaguely remembered the rustling sound he'd heard before entering the classroom; he'd totally forgotten about it until Dumbledore mentioned Harry's cloak. The boy had walked right passed him! What luck that he hadn't tripped over Merlin in his haste to return to Gryffindor Tower! That would have been an awkward situation to have to explain.

Merlin snorted in amusement.

"There were three invisible people wandering around the castle Christmas night? I hope that doesn't become a standard. I'd rather not have to worry about accidentally running into anyone else when I want to go for a walk in the moonlight."

Dumbledore chuckled.

"Well, you might just have to since Harry used his father's cloak the past two nights to revisit the mirror. Forgive me but I assumed you would return as well."

"I've been tempted," Merlin admitted, "but it would be more detrimental than beneficial to stare at Arthur every waking moment. Besides, the prat has enough admirers. He doesn't need another incentive to inflate his already fat head."

"Merlin," Perenelle reproved though she was smiling.

Dumbledore, too, was mildly amused but curiosity made him ask, "If you don't mind, Merlin, could you tell me why you were wandering the halls Christmas night?"

Slightly disarmed but not entirely surprised by the question, Merlin answered, "The Mirror of Erised called to me. Powerful magical objects – especially ones made from Old Magic – resonate with mine. Once I feel the pull, it is nigh impossible to resist."

"Have you felt it calling to you since that night?" Dumbledore wondered.

Merlin shook his head.

"Strangely, no."

"You're surprised by this?"

"Well, with other items in the past, every time they were in use I could feel them. If what you say is true and Harry has used the mirror the last two nights, I haven't felt its magic."

"You have been rather occupied though," Perenelle pointed out.

Merlin grimaced. Yes, indeed he had – with grief and mourning he hadn't experienced in a very long time. Curse the prat and the Old Religion! Hadn't he suffered enough?

"Well, even if you had felt the call from the mirror, you wouldn't have to worry about it being used anymore," Dumbledore assured, pulling Merlin from his bitter thoughts.

"Why not?"

"I have moved it. It's now resting with the false stone in the chamber where the original was." He then pulled a small object from his pocket. In his palm was the real Sorcerer's Stone. "I believe this can now be returned to you, Merlin. I trust that you'll have a way to shield its power from Voldemort so as to keep his focus on the third floor corridor."

Merlin gently took the Stone from Dumbledore and nodded.

"Trust me, Albus," he said fiercely, "if there is one thing I excel at, it's concealment. Voldemort – nor any other sorcerer for that matter – will ever be able to find it."

The power radiated from Merlin was a testimony to that statement and both Perenelle and Dumbledore believed him unreservedly. The headmaster inclined his head.

"I should be on my way." He moved to the exit but paused. "Merlin? Keep an eye on Quirrell, won't you?"

"Don't worry, Albus," Merlin assured, "I won't allow that snake to harm any of your students."

The headmaster smiled, nodded, and then left. Perenelle came over to him and gently kissed his cheek.

"You should put that in a safe place," she advised.

"I will," Merlin muttered, staring down at the seemingly harmless Stone. He glanced at his wife, slightly shuffling his feet. "I think I'm going to be preoccupied the rest of the night. Will you be alright down here by yourself?"

Perenelle smiled before letting out a soft whistle. Nogard flew down from his perch on a bookcase and settled on her shoulder.

"You spend the evening with Arthur," she grinned, rubbing Nogard's head, "I've got all the company I need for the night."

Merlin observed them with warmth before kissing his wife goodnight and heading upstairs. Once in his room, he pulled a small pouch attached to a thin unbreakable chain from around his neck. The pouch was the size of a galleon in appearance but the inside was large enough to comfortably fit the entire castle of Camelot. This was where Merlin kept his most prized possessions. Everything was organized within the concealed space too, compartmentalized and easily summoned with the right enchantment. Whispering quietly, he dropped the Sorcerer's Stone into the bag where it fell to rest in the space specifically meant for it. Another whispered spell later and a vial popped out of the bag. Swirling within were white wisps of memory. Written on the bottle was one word in Merlin's elegant scrawl: _Arthur._

In his hand was every memory he'd ever had with his best friend. Out of all the things he possessed, this vial was worth more to him than all the riches of the world. Merlin had lost count on the number of times he'd pulled this out of his bag, simply to stare at it, wishing that he could add further memories to its contents. He'd escaped into the memories many times in his long life and while it was therapeutic, it also hurt his heart. But the desire to see and hear Arthur had always been worth the pain – as was the case now. Merlin _needed_ to see him.

Finding his pensive, the warlock removed the cork from the vial and poured his precious memories into the enchanted bowl. His heart pounding with anticipation, excitement, and dread, Merlin escaped into the past...

The brilliant sun shone down on what would be an average day in the city of Camelot. Servants, merchants, and guards roamed the streets, accomplishing their specified tasks. Just as his younger self wandered through an archway, Merlin's eyes watered as he laid eyes on Camelot's golden prince.

"Where's the target?" Arthur mocked to his then manservant, Travis.

"There, sir," Travis answered nervously, gesturing with his head.

"It's into the sun," Arthur pointed out, his arrogance radiating from his conceited smile.

"But it's not that bright."

"A bit like you then."

Despite the insult, Merlin found himself smiling. Arthur was so young, his muscles still not fully developed, his maturity suffering similarly.

"I'll put the target on the other end, shall I, sir?" Travis asked, clearly upset but resigned to the crude laughter and treatment issued by the stuck up noble boys hovering around Arthur.

"This'll teach him," Arthur muttered to his followers before throwing a knife into the target Travis was currently moving. Of course it hit almost dead-center; even though he was still perfecting his skills, when Merlin met Arthur he was already an accomplished warrior.

"Hey! Hang on!" Travis cried, unnerved.

"Don't stop!" Arthur petulantly commanded, throwing out his arms.

"Here?"

"I told you to keep moving."

Another knife flew through the air.

"Come on. _Run!"_ Arthur commanded, that arrogant grin still plastered to his face.

Travis moved back and forth, terrified, barely holding the target as Arthur proceeded to throw knives at the wooden surface, joking about moving target practice to his followers. Travis eventually tripped and the round target rolled away, paving the beginning of destiny. Merlin watched as his younger self stood up to the great Prince of Camelot, insulting him as none had ever dared do before. Even to him his attempted punch was weak, Arthur easily twisting him around before forcing him to his knees. Despite their rocky beginning, tears pooled in Merlin's eyes. The scene melted away, transforming into one of the main streets in Camelot's lower town. Merlin witnessed his second confrontation with Arthur, laughing as the two youths destroyed parts of the market in a game of chase.

Being a bystander to this entire confrontation had taught Merlin many things over the years. Arthur may have hid behind a mask of arrogance and irritation but it was clear to Merlin that as his younger self insulted him, the prince was secretly pleased and intrigued by his wit and bravery. He had been in desperate need of a real friend and Merlin held the potential of being just that – though neither of the youths would ever acknowledge it at the time. Merlin had originally stood up to Arthur because he believed him to be nothing but a bully that deserved a taste of justice. Older Merlin could now see that Arthur was just putting on airs to keep in good standing with his followers and picking fights with those of lesser station to release the frustrations tied to the expectations of his title. He had been a lonely, slightly misguided soul and Merlin had been a youth in need of purpose.

The tears continued to fall as, scene after scene, Merlin watched his friendship and destiny with Arthur grow. He laughed over their naivety, sorrowed when their relationship was slightly strained, cheered during their countless triumphs, and longed to add to the witty remarks quipped back and forth between the two. When the memories started turning towards darker times – drawing nearer to Arthur's death – Merlin's eyes flashed gold, halting the process with his magic. He returned to the present and fell back onto his bed.

It took all of two seconds before the warlock curled into a ball and began sobbing, his arms secured tightly to his shaking torso. He allowed the emotions to flow because it would be unwise to hide or hinder what he was feeling. His soul was wracked with indescribable loss, the hole in his heart aching, pining eternally for the void to end; for his King to return. The hurt soon transformed into anger and lightning flashed outside, the resulting thunder causing the windows to rattle.

Merlin was just so tired of it all! Tired of his immortality, tired of having to say goodbye to people over and over again, tired of having to lie, tired of waiting! Why had he been cursed to live while everyone else got to rest happily in Avalon? Why couldn't he join them? Why hadn't Arthur returned yet? What right did the Prat have, dying on him like that, when their destiny had only just begun? Why hadn't he just killed Mordred when Kilgharrah first warned him of his eventual destiny? Why had he allowed Morgana to fall so far? Why had he let his fear stop him from simply telling Arthur the truth?

Why, why _, why?_

His questions tormented his mind, his sobs burning his throat.

"Why, Arthur?" he brokenly cried into the darkness around him, _"Why did you leave me behind?"_

The sorrow of Emrys was felt by every magical creature tied to the Old magic, including the earth itself. The dragons roared in anguish towards the sky, the unicorns hung their heads, and the phoenixes shed mournful tears. None could rescue the warlock from his misery though each creature hoped that the pain would pass.

And pass it did.

Eventually Merlin's tears ran dry, his self-pity following soon after. Though his heart ached for the return of his King, the warlock knew that one day Kilgharrah's promise would come true. He just had to keep his head held high.

He had a wife to care for, a young wizard to protect, and a world that was being threatened by the shadows of evil. Arthur would return – he knew this – but he couldn't stop living until he did. He had to keep going, keep trying, keep hoping; hope was all he had left, after all.

There was a soft knock on the door before Perenelle's beautiful caramel-colored hair swept into view. Nogard flew over her head and circled around Merlin, the wooden dragon snuggling its smooth cheek against his.

"Hey, Nogard," Merlin hoarsely greeted, his voice raw.

The bed dipped as Perenelle joined him. Merlin twisted around as she wrapped her arms around him, burying his face into her neck and holding her tightly. Nogard resettled himself nearby, waiting loyally to bestow further comfort should Merlin need it.

"I love you, Merlin," Perenelle whispered, kissing his head.

Merlin smiled, despite his haunted mind. His wife had said exactly what he needed to hear – as she always did when he got this way. He didn't need sympathetic words. He didn't need someone to tell him things he already knew and understood. He just needed to be held and loved.

"I love you too, Perenelle," he whispered, his aching heart filling with a portion of gratitude for this wondrous woman. "Thank you."

She kissed the top of his head again but said no more, holding him tightly, reassuring him with gentle strokes of her fingers through his hair. Merlin closed his eyes, allowing the security and peace of her love to wash over him as he drifted to sleep, temporarily escaping his fractured reality.

* * *

 **Poor Merlin. Those who have experienced loss can relate to what he's going through in some way or another. For those of you who haven't yet, count yourselves fortunate. The initial grief and pain one feels at the start of loss will fade into waves that come once in a while and they'll come for the rest of your life. I figured that Merlin would not be an exception to this. I want to reassure all of you that our favorite warlock isn't going to continue to wallow in his sadness, however. He still has things to do while waiting for his Prat. :) Just give him time to grieve; the Mirror of Erised threw a particularly nasty grief wave at him after all.**

 **Please review and I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas! I'll try to get the next chapter up ASAP but it'll probably be after the holidays since real life is (unfortunately) a thing.**

 **Spell:** Bind the truth. Let secrets of the life of Emrys remain within this frame.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi everyone! I know, it's been a long time. I would apologize for that but I have a very good reason for not writing for so long. Morning sickness has made every day for the last few months really difficult for me. Yes, I'm happy to announce that this author is pregnant! And after months of feeling gross I finally feel well enough to write again! I can't promise updates will be as frequent as they have been in the past but I promise you all that I will see this story reach its end. Thank you for your patience. And now for the disclaimer.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape, or form own Harry Potter or BBC Merlin. The words I had to use in this chapter from The Sorcerer's Stone belong completely and solely to the amazing and wonderful J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

Chapter 09

Discovered, Somewhat

* * *

Just as Merlin predicted, the new term proved to be horrible for the fifth years. They had so much work to do that it wasn't uncommon for a student to completely lose it in class and be excused to the Hospital Wing for a calming draught.

Merlin himself was still on top of his homework but found it rather frustrating that the second he had a moment to breathe his teachers would assign another essay or project for him to do. He wasn't concerned about whether or not he was going to pass. He was more annoyed that he was stuck writing essays about what he considered beginners magic. At least his Muggle Studies essays were fun and interesting; the constant evolution of Muggle technology proved a welcome fascination to the mundane magic he'd mastered before he was even five hundred years old.

While Merlin was grateful the heavy workload distracted him from thinking about Arthur, it was getting in the way of any personal time he wanted to spend with Perenelle. It wasn't that she was having any difficulties with the homework; it was more that they had to keep up the pretense that they were struggling just as much as the other fifth years in order to avoid suspicion.

"We have to pretend we're as careworn as they are, Merlin," Perenelle said late one night, the two of them holed up in the boy's dormitory. "We resigned ourselves to this, remember?"

Even if he agreed with her, it didn't mean he had to torture himself by rereading magical texts he'd memorized decades ago. Instead the ancient warlock amused himself by pouring over muggle novels bewitched to look like school books. As the snow turned to rain and his fellow fifth years slaved over their spell books, Merlin entertained himself with the worlds of Middle Earth, Narnia, and Alagaësia.

He didn't always have his nose stuck in a book, however. Some weekends he would spend in Dumbledore's office, answering the man's questions about the Old Religion and the previous ages he'd lived through. They didn't talk much about Camelot even though Merlin could tell Dumbledore wanted to; he was tactful enough to realize the topic was still rather sensitive for the old warlock. If the subject did arise it was because Merlin brought it up himself and even then the headmaster did his best to avoid asking questions that hit too close to Arthur.

On one rather rainy day, Merlin sat across from Dumbledore enjoying a warm cup of tea by the fire, having just finished sharing with him the horrific fashions he'd had to endure through some of the early centuries; his cheeks were still red from the embarrassing retelling.

Setting his now empty cup aside, Dumbledore threaded his fingers and casually asked, "Merlin, how do you feel about Severus Snape?"

Merlin raised a curious brow and lowered his teacup.

"That's a rather drastic change in subject, Albus."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he smiled.

"Would you rather I asked another question concerning the fifteenth century?"

"I think I've had enough of sharing my personal history for today, thanks," Merlin grumbled. Staring at the fire, he deeply frowned before answering Dumbledore's previous question. "Severus is a complex man."

"Indeed."

Hearing the amusement in the headmaster's tone, Merlin scowled. "Why do you care what I think? You're old enough to make your own decisions concerning who you should and shouldn't trust."

"While I agree with you, I still want to know your opinion."

Merlin let out a sigh and ran his long fingers through his hair. What _did_ he think of Severus Snape?

"He's an artist," Merlin mused, speaking his thoughts. "Like a chameleon, he paints himself into any setting and performs whatever role best fits his ends. I know that he was once a Death Eater but I no longer sense any dark magic from him. I also know he's hiding something but I feel it unnecessary to find out what that is. People are entitled to their secrets."

Dumbledore surveyed him. "And do you think a chameleon can be trusted?"

"This particular chameleon? Yes – even if I don't particularly like him."

The twinkle returned to Dumbledore's eye and he chuckled.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't like Severus, would you?"

"Let's just say he's not a person I'd want to socialize with on a regular basis."

"Fair enough."

"Why the sudden interest in my opinion of our resident Potions Master anyway?"

"I'm sure you're aware that the next Quidditch match is Gryffindor verses Hufflepuff."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. Of course he was; it was the only thing the students were talking about. But what did this have to do with Snape?

"The whole school is hoping Gryffindor wins so they'll overtake Slytherin in the house championship," he said. "What about it?"

Dumbledore sighed before standing up and beginning to pace.

"I wouldn't put it past Quirrell to attempt murdering Harry a second time while he's on the Quidditch field. Out of all my teachers, Severus is the most capable in handling counter curses and I believe that having him referee would deter Quirrell from trying anything."

Merlin immediately agreed.

"I can situate myself close to Quirrell as well, if it would ease your mind."

Dumbledore smiled. "I was counting on it. I plan on attending the match myself."

"If you come then Quirrell wouldn't dare try anything. Everyone knows you're the only one Voldemort ever feared."

Dumbledore blushed. "You flatter me. I am a peddler in magic compared to yourself."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Albus, you're the most powerful sorcerer of the age – excluding myself, yes. The point is that in his current state Voldemort's power doesn't hold a candle to yours. Harry should be plenty safe with you there at the match."

"If that is the case, do you think it still necessary for Severus to referee?"

Merlin debated for a moment before nodding. "I'd feel more at ease, to be honest. It's as you said, Severus has experience with dark curses. It would be better having someone like that nearer to Harry than not with Voldemort in such close proximity."

"You're right, of course," Dumbledore agreed. "Thank you, Merlin. Sometimes I need to voice my thoughts in order to find reassurance."

Merlin grinned as he stood up. "Don't worry about it. I've had plenty of experience with listening to another's thoughts."

He instantly regretted saying this as several memories of a distraught king plagued his mind. Merlin shook the sadness away. He wouldn't let his sorrow rule him. He couldn't.

"Merlin?"

The ancient warlock refocused on Dumbledore. The headmaster's concern was plain but instead of probing, he suggested the two of them head down to the Great Hall for dinner. Merlin left first since he didn't want to give Snape any more reason to suspect why he and the headmaster were once again meeting in private.

He met Henry, Caroline, and Perenelle at the Ravenclaw table, all three already well into their steak and kidney pie.

"Where have you been, Arlin?" Caroline asked as he sat down and kissed Perenelle in greeting.

"I needed to get out of the common room," he answered. "There's only so much misery I can take for one day."

"Ha! I told you this was going to be the year you'd crack!" said Henry through a mouthful of pie.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Henry," Caroline admonished.

Merlin and Perenelle shared an amused grin before the former said, "I haven't necessarily cracked, Henry. I finished all the homework due next week last night. I decided to take the day wandering around as a reward."

"Of course you finished it," Henry sourly groused, stabbing the veggies on his plate. "Perfect prefect Arlin. Top in the class."

"I'm far from perfect, Henry," Merlin gently replied. "And I don't think you give yourself enough credit. You told me yourself that you only have three more essays to write."

"Yeah," Henry mourned, "and one of them is Snape's. I shouldn't even try to write it. He's going to fail me anyway."

"Come on, Henry, you're being too hard on yourself," Perenelle consoled.

"Yeah, it's not your fault Snape's a slimy git," said Caroline. "Everyone says so."

Henry sighed. "You know what? Let's stop talking about homework. Instead we should discuss the upcoming match. How about it, Arlin? Wanna bet a few galleons over who's going to win? My money's on Gryffindor."

Normally Merlin wouldn't waste his galleons on such things like a school bet but he'd gambled a fair bit in his younger days and besides, Henry needed some kind of a pick-me-up.

"Alright then," he agreed. "Ten galleons that Hufflepuff wins."

Everyone stared.

"You can't be serious!" Henry laughed. "Hufflepuff doesn't stand a chance! Have you seen the team Wood's put together this year?"

"Hey, I like rooting for the underdog," Merlin shrugged.

"You're funeral, mate. I personally think all that studying has rotted your brain. What about you, Nellie? Fancy adding to the pot?"

Perenelle shook her head. "Unlike my boyfriend, I don't waste my coins gambling. You might want to try the Weasley twins over at the Gryffindor table though. I'm sure they'd humor you."

"Good idea," Henry muttered. His eyes bright with excitement, he finished the last of his pie and raced off.

Caroline shook her head. "What am I going to do with him?"

[][][]

Later that night, as he lay behind the curtains of his four poster, Merlin got a note from Dumbledore via Fawkes.

 _Severus accepted to referee though he may be in a foul mood the next little while. He feels that protecting Harry so openly will jeopardize any progress he's made at getting Quirrell to trust him._

Merlin pondered that for a moment before conjuring parchment, ink, and quill.

 _Snape has a valid point but I don't think he has to worry about getting information. Quirrell is weak and therefore susceptible to being ruled by fear. He fears Voldemort but if Snape plays his cards right, he can equally use fear to influence Quirrell into loosening his tongue._

Folding the parchment in half, Merlin flexed his fingers and the message disappeared. It would pop up on the headmaster's desk any second now. Figuring Dumbledore wouldn't write a return response, Merlin waved his hand to get rid of his ink and quill before settling back under his covers. He waited a few minutes just to be sure nothing came and when all remained quiet he turned on his side and fell asleep.

[][][]

As the match drew near, Merlin consulted Perenelle on the best way to be near Quirrell in the stands.

"I can't just sit with the teachers," he said as Nogard played with his fingers. "It's not against the rules or anything but it would definitely draw attention; no student in their right mind would choose the professors over their friends."

"And you don't want to sit too far away since close proximity to Quirrell would be easier for you to use Old magic," Perenelle mused. "This is also one of the biggest matches of the year. It'll determine if Gryffindor can pull ahead of Slytherin. You can't pretend to skive it."

Nogard's tail wrapped around Merlin's fingers and the warlock jerked his arm upward. The dragon spit a few wood chips in surprise, eliciting a chuckle from the pair. Nogard snapped at him in reproach, flapping his wings angrily. Merlin ignored him, thinking.

"Maybe I can," he muttered.

"Can what?"

"Pretend to skive."

Perenelle's brow furrowed. "How?"

Merlin faked a grimace and leaned back into his pillow. "You know, I don't feel well. I may be coming down with something."

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin," Perenelle frowned, "You can't get –" Her eyes widened. "Oh! Of course! You can _pretend_ to be ill!"

"And then attend the match invisible, transporting back here before anyone knew I was there," he finished, grinning.

Perenelle kissed him. "Genius."

[][][]

The morning of the match Merlin cast a spell causing his temperature to rise and his cheeks to flush. Henry stood by his bedside, eying him with concern.

"But you never get sick," he muttered, hefting his school bag over his shoulder.

Merlin faked a shiver. "First time for everything."

"But today's the match! You can't miss it!"

"You'll just have to tell me what happens."

Henry dithered on his heels, searching desperately for some solution when his eyes suddenly lit up. "I could get Madam Pomfrey! She'd be able to fix this easy!"

Merlin didn't doubt it but he couldn't let Henry ruin his plans. "I really just need to sleep, Henry," he pressed. "Besides, I'd rather you not risk Madam Pomfrey getting upset with you for dragging her out of the Hospital Wing for something as trivial as a slight fever."

Henry looked on the verge of arguing but one last pleading look from Merlin won him over.

"Oh, alright; but you'd better get better by tomorrow! If you get behind in the homework, Weasley will beat you at being top in the class."

Merlin suppressed a snort. "Like I'd ever let that happen. Trust me, Henry; that is the last thing you need to worry about."

"Good," he huffed, "because I'd rather not have to listen to him boast about it."

Merlin nodded in agreement and pretended to drift off. Henry left for classes, heaving a heavy sigh.

Once alone, Merlin pulled out the current novel he was reading (Dragon Slippers) and activated Nogard, settling in for a relaxing morning. He had a house elf bring him breakfast and later lunch, finishing off his second meal just in time for the afternoon match. Freezing Nogard, Merlin closed his book, stretched, and made himself invisible before transporting to the Quidditch pitch.

Students were still making their way towards the stands from the castle, some waving Gryffindor and Hufflepuff flags. Merlin steered clear of the masses as he weaved his way to the teachers' stands. He waited near the steps for Quirrell, wondering which side the professor would take. His query appeared a few minutes later, taking the stairs to the right. Merlin followed, flattening himself against the wall to avoid hitting Professor Sinistra who was currently chatting with Professor Kettleburn about his latest injury from a grindylow. Quirrell climbed to the top row, sitting down in the center. Merlin would have followed but there was the possibility of another teacher knocking into him so he settled for standing in the corner at the base of the stairs. Dumbledore arrived with Professor McGonagall a few minutes later and Quirrell blanched at the sight of the headmaster. Merlin smirked in satisfaction. From the look on his face, any idea the traitor had been scheming was clearly dashed. Harry would be perfectly safe during today's game.

A few minutes later the crowd roared as the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor teams appeared on the field. Snape released the balls and the game commenced. Merlin didn't pay too much attention to the match, ignoring the commentary as he watched Quirrell like a hawk surveying its next victim. The stuttering professor didn't seem at all interested in the match either, his eyes on his knees and a heavy frown on his face. A sudden gasp from the crowd made Merlin twist around, however, and his eyes immediately sought after Harry who was currently in the middle of a rather spectacular dive. The boy missed Snape by inches and a second later pulled up with the Snitch in his fingers.

The stands erupted in an explosion of cheers. Merlin had to admit he was impressed; in all his years at Hogwarts, he'd never seen anyone catch the Snitch so fast. Confident that Harry was in no further danger, the old warlock took one last look at Quirrell before vanishing in a light wind.

Reappearing next to his bedside, Merlin got back under the covers and pretended to be the sick invalid, knowing that Henry would be storming up the stairs to give him a play by play of the match. The boy appeared about half an hour later with Caroline and Perenelle in tow, a huge grin on his face.

"Pay up, Arlin!" he cried happily. "Gryffindor _creamed_ Hufflepuff in one of the best games the school has ever seen! Potter caught the Snitch in the first five minutes!"

"Did he now?" Merlin said, smiling when Perenelle winked at him. "Well, a deal's a deal, I suppose. Here, Henry, ten galleons as promised."

His friend took the gold and then settled at the edge of his bedside, doing exactly as Merlin predicted in telling him everything that occurred. Merlin took it in with a smile, knowing that more than one victory had been won today.

[][][]

In the weeks that followed, the fifth years were given more homework than most could handle. Caroline finally cracked, bursting into tears in the middle of one of Flitwick's lessons. The professor allowed Henry to escort his distraught girlfriend to the Hospital Wing, watching them with pitying eyes. Even Merlin could be seen sitting in the common room with Perenelle during the Easter holidays, elbow-deep in books and parchment into the late hours of the night. The amount of work, while still easy, was large and tedious.

"I don't know how children can possibly be expected to do all of this," Merlin grumbled to his wife one day after lunch. "It's easy for us because we know this already but for them? I'm not surprised over how many people are breaking down."

"It happens to everyone," Perenelle sighed. "O.W.L.'s are taken very seriously, Arlin."

"Yes, but to the point of driving someone into emotional turmoil?"

"You were once where they are now."

Merlin thought back to the days of his youth. It was rather difficult to remember how hard things were but he eventually recalled a time when he had angrily thrown his spell book across the room for not being able to animate a stone statue. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Perenelle noticed it and chuckled.

"There, you see, even the greatest of us all had break downs. They'll survive this and be stronger for it."

Merlin kissed her cheek. "You're right, of course. Say, I'm going to hit the library for a while. Do you want to come?"

Perenelle shook her head. "I still have Professor Sprout's essay to finish. You go on and find something fun to read."

"Who said I would be reading for leisure?"

Perenelle rolled her eyes. "Please, Arlin, you finished your last essay last night before everyone else and I know you've already read through all the muggle novels you brought with you."

Merlin sheepishly grinned. "I didn't think you'd noticed."

"After all these years I've learned to be very observant. Now go on; have fun."

She kissed him before heading up a staircase that would take her to Ravenclaw Tower. Merlin watched her go with a smile on his face. His wife was really something else.

Turning on his heel, he made for the library, entering the vast room a few minutes later. The smells of old parchment and ink enveloped him as he walked amidst the shelves. Like him, books were forms of history, pieces of people's lives left behind to bring further light and knowledge to younger minds. Taking a few volumes off the shelves, Merlin found a quiet corner to settle into and began to read.

He was in the middle of a passage about the different uses of moon dust when someone burst out, "I'll never remember this."

The voice was young and sounded vaguely familiar. Merlin figured it was likely a first or second year. He chuckled quietly to himself. "Just wait until you reach fifth year, kid."

"Hagrid!" the youngster cried a moment later. "What are you doing in the library?"

"Jus' lookin'," Hagrid hedged. The half giant sounded like he'd just been caught doing something he shouldn't. "An' what're you lot up ter? Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

Merlin choked. _What?_

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago. And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer's St –"

"Shhh! Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact, about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy –"

That voice; Merlin knew who that was; it was Harry Potter! But how –? What –?

"SHHHH!" Hagrid repeated. "Listen – come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh –"

"See you later, then," said Harry.

Hagrid shuffled off.

Merlin sat there, stunned. Somehow, some way, Harry had found out about the Stone and he knew it belonged to him. How in the world had a first year figured it out? And who else knew? Alarmed, Merlin leapt to his feet and crept closer, peeking through the shelves. Sitting at a table were Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" asked Hermione.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?" Harry wondered.

"I'm going to see what section he was in," said Ron.

Noticing that the redhead was coming in his direction, Merlin slightly panicked before turning himself invisible. Ron pulled a few books off the shelves and returned to his friends, slamming the volumes on the table.

" _Dragons!"_ he whispered. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."_

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon," said Harry, "He told me so the first time I ever met him."

Merlin frowned in disapproval. Dragons weren't meant to be owned!

"But it's against our laws," said Ron. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that." – _Yes_ , Merlin thought _, I was the one who made sure that law was passed_. –"It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden – anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

"But there aren't wild dragons in _Britain_ ," said Harry.

"Of course there are," said Ron. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

"So what on earth's Hagrid up to?" asked Hermione.

Merlin wondered that himself – along with several other things! Like how three first years had discovered his Sorcerer's Stone. From the conversation, it sounded like Hagrid hadn't exactly told them but then how had the trio figured it out? And what about 'figuring out who Nicolas Flamel was'? Did that mean that they knew he was…?

Merlin left the library, forgetting about his stack of books entirely. He found Perenelle in Ravenclaw Tower five minutes later, barely finishing her essay for Professor Sprout.

"Arlin, what are you –" She caught sight of Merlin's face and jumped up. "What's wrong?"

Merlin shook his head and motioned for her to follow him back out the door. Leaving a confused Caroline and Henry behind, the two left and made it halfway down the stairs before Merlin transported them to the clearing in the Forbidden Forest where they'd previously met Aithusa.

"Merlin, _what_ is going on?" Perenelle asked in concern.

He launched into the details, pacing frantically back and forth, his heart hammering against his ribcage. His wife's eyes were wide with alarm by the time he'd finished.

"You think Hagrid's doing something illegal with dragons?" she asked.

Merlin stared. "I just told you that three first years know about the Stone and the only thing you're worried about is what _Hagrid_ is currently up to?"

Perenelle sighed. "Of course I'm worried about how they could have figured out the truth but, Merlin, I don't think they're a threat to us or the Stone."

"I didn't think they were," Merlin said, "I just want to know why they're sticking their nose in our business in the first place."

"Natural curiosity?"

Merlin shook his head. "I feel like it's more than that. They were trying to figure out what else is guarding it. But how did they find out about it?"

"Merlin," Perenelle began slowly, her brows slightly furrowed, "do you remember all those months ago when you found the third floor door unlocked?"

Merlin paused. "Yes, Filch was saying something about students being out of bed…"

"I think we know now which students ran into Fluffy," Perenelle chuckled. "I also think it's safe to assume they just happened to hide behind Fluffy's door so as not to get caught."

"But they would have had to unlock it. Why not find another place to hide?"

"Not wanting to get in trouble can cause rationality to fly out the window," Perenelle reasoned. "You've hid under people's beds before when snooping around Camelot. Why didn't you just turn yourself invisible?"

"Because I – that's – oh, alright, but I still want to know how in the world they figured out what Fluffy was guarding. And what did Ron mean when he said they'd found out who Nicolas Flamel is ages ago?"

"I don't know, Merlin. I personally don't think they know _you're_ Nicolas Flamel. If that were the case we would have caught them staring. I think they might have found out who you are in relation to the Stone. As to how they came to know about the Stone itself, the only way to find out is to ask them since you said Hagrid didn't tell them."

"But we can't ask them without ousting ourselves!"

"Then I guess we'll never find out."

Merlin carded his fingers through his hair and groaned. "I don't like this!"

"Neither do I," Perenelle sighed, "but finding out what Hagrid is up to seems more pressing to me, especially if it has to do with dragons."

Merlin slumped down on a nearby log and held his head in his hands. "What do you think I should do, Nellie?"

Perenelle sat down beside him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "We'll keep an eye on the kids but for now I think you should go to Hagrid's tonight. Don't go inside necessarily but find out what's going on."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

Perenelle playfully bumped his shoulder. "You're Merlin. I'm sure you'll figure something out."

[][][]

Not exactly sure when the trio would meet with Hagrid, Merlin and Perenelle parted ways, she heading for the castle and he to the Gamekeeper's cabin. Hiding behind a large trunk, Merlin assessed that all the curtains had been drawn closed. Frowning, he edged closer to the house and settled under the window facing the back garden, whispering a spell that allowed him to hear perfectly what was going on within.

"– wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Sorcerer's Stone besides Fluffy."

That was Harry. So they were already here. Merlin silently cursed, hoping he hadn't missed any key information.

"O' course I can't," Hagrid replied. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts – I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you _do_ know, you know everything that goes on round here," said Hermione. Merlin silently groaned, knowing that such flattery would easily manipulate the half-giant. "We only wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you," she added.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that…"

Oh yes it could! Merlin had half a mind to magic away Hagrid's voice. Forcing himself to calm down, he listened as the half giant named every teacher that had helped protect the Stone. Thank the Old Religion he didn't go into detail on what the enchantments were themselves! Harry seemed rather surprised when Snape was mentioned. Merlin didn't chalk it up as important since every student hated the Potions Master until Hagrid said, "Yeah – yer not still not on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped _protect_ the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

Wait, they thought _Snape_ was after the Stone? Merlin frowned. Well, at least they didn't have _all_ the information he did.

Harry's voice was filled with anxiety as he asked, "You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid? And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly.

 _Not true,_ Merlin countered. He, Perenelle, and Newt knew but none of them would blab that secret to anyone.

"Well, that's something," Harry muttered quietly. "Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."

"Can't, Harry, sorry."

"Hagrid – what's _that?"_

Harry's inquiry turned out to be a dragon egg, an unborn Norwegian Ridgeback to be exact. Hagrid confessed to winning it in a card game down in the village last night and he seemed perfectly happy preparing for the little one instead of addressing the obvious concern voiced by Hermione that he lived in a wooden house.

Merlin shook his head in exasperation. He knew of Hagrid's love for magical creatures but this was going too far. Dragons were not pets. They were meant to be wild and free – and they certainly weren't supposed to be raised by humans or half giants! Merlin contemplated slipping into the hut and simply stealing the egg but he feared Hagrid would be watching the thing like an overprotective mother hen so instead he left to seek out Perenelle's guidance.

He'd barely set foot back in the castle when –

"Penrys! What are you doing?"

Merlin had to close his eyes so the professor wouldn't see them revolve toward the ceiling.

"I was just getting some fresh air, sir," he said, turning to face Snape.

The Potions Master held a book stuffed with pages of loose parchment; if Merlin could guess, he'd just finished grading a bunch of essays in the staffroom.

"Fresh air," Snape repeated, his dark eyes narrowing further in suspicion. "One would think you would be using your free time to stay on top of your studies."

Merlin failed to keep the annoyance out of his voice as he replied, "I actually finished my essays yesterday, professor, and how I choose to spend my free time is actually none of your business."

Snape's lip curled. "Ten points from Ravenclaw, Penrys."

"Can I go now?" Merlin asked, not caring in the slightest about the point loss.

Snape's anger mounted further. "Another ten points! And if you don't change your attitude, it'll be detention as well."

The last thing Merlin needed was detention with Snape – especially now that he had to spend his free time tailing those three curious first years and figuring out what to do with Hagrid's new house guest. Feeling as if he were swallowing poison, Merlin forced himself into a picture of perfect politeness.

"Forgive me, sir, for my rudeness. I'll be sure to do as you've advised and use my time to prepare for my O.W.L.'s."

The delivery was perfect, not an ounce of sarcasm or disrespect shown.

Snape, however, kept his frown in place as he retorted, "See that you do." before twisting on his heel and heading for the dungeons without another word.

Merlin watched him go, feeling that it would be in his best interest to be a little more cautious around the Potions Master from now on. He had enough to worry about without adding Snape to his list.


	10. Chapter 10

**Here's a long one for you guys! :) Enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter**

* * *

Chapter 10

Attempting Responsibility

* * *

A couple of weeks went by and, after much debate, Merlin decided to listen to his wife and allow Hagrid to keep the dragon until after it hatched. Perenelle's argument was that it didn't feel right to take away the one thing Hagrid wanted most in the world without letting him at least experience having it for a few days.

"It's not like you're going to let anything bad happen to him or the hatchling," she'd said late one night as they huddled together in the Ravenclaw common room.

Merlin could see plenty of bad things happening. "I'm just worried," he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"That's normal, given that you're a dragonlord and there's a baby dragon involved. Merlin, I have no doubt Hagrid will take care of the baby until we can find a way to free it. Trust him."

[][][]

Besides having to deal with ignorant half giants and three meddlesome children, another event was posted one morning on the billboard in the common room.

"Career Advice," said Henry when Merlin stopped next to him to see what the commotion was about.

The notice read:

 **Career Advice**

 **All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of May, in which they will be given the opportunity to discuss their future careers. Time of individual appointments are listed below.**

Merlin frowned. Career advice; like he needed that! He'd worked more jobs than any human being on the planet. He wasn't at all interested in sitting down with Flitwick to discuss what he'd need to do in order to become an Auror, his chosen career field this time; he'd already worked the job at least ten times in his long life. Still, for the sake of appearances, he had to pretend he was a naïve fifteen year old. Oh, the struggle of being an immortal!

"Are you still planning on being an Auror, Arlin?" Caroline asked as she and Henry followed him and Perenelle down to breakfast.

"Sure am," Merlin replied. "What about you? Do you still want to work for the Department of International Magic Cooperation?"

"I think so," said Caroline, "although for a while I was considering working with the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. But I think I work better with people – especially after that lesson where Professor Kettleburn introduced us to Hippogriffs."

"Well I'm totally going to work for the Department of Magical Games and Sports," said Henry.

"Big surprise there," Caroline smirked while rolling her eyes.

"What? Everyone knows I love Quidditch," said Henry defensively.

"Then why didn't you ever try out for the house team?"

"Just because I love the sport doesn't mean I'm good at playing it. Teams need coaches and I'm planning on working with the best ones in the league."

"Good luck with that, then. How about you, Nellie? What do you want to do?"

Perenelle smiled. "The same as you, actually, Caroline. Working with our kind on an international level and establishing peaceful relationships has always been something I've wanted to do."

"I hate to break it to you, Nellie, but world peace has yet to be accomplished," Henry pointed out.

"No, but peace across an entire nation has," Merlin replied, thinking of the Golden Age of Camelot. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to strengthen relationships with other peoples. I admire and support anyone who strives towards creating peace instead of war."

As they entered the Great Hall, Merlin lost interest in the conversation, his eyes roaming over to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting at the Gryffindor table. He'd been keeping his eye on them ever since the day in the library but apart from studying and worrying over Hagrid, the youths hadn't dug for any further information concerning the Stone. Merlin watched as a white snowy owl landed in front of Harry and the boy's reaction to the note it brought. Suspicious, Merlin whispered a spell that allowed him to hear their conversation from across the room.

"Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?" asked Ron.

"We've got lessons, we'll get in trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing –"

"Shut up!" Harry whispered.

Merlin jumped, afraid he'd been caught, but when he looked Harry wasn't staring at him but at someone else. Sighing in relief, Merlin ended the spell and turned back to his friends who were still discussing their future careers.

"You okay?" Perenelle asked quietly as she helped herself to some toast.

"Yeah," Merlin muttered. "I think its hatching."

"What? How do you know?"

Merlin whispered what he'd seen and overheard. Perenelle frowned.

"I know what you're thinking, Arlin," she said, "and I don't think it's wise for you to skive off."

"But Nellie –"

"We have double Transfiguration today and I don't think McGonagall would let your absence slide with O.W.L.'s being so close. You can't use feeling ill as an excuse either since you're perfectly fine right now."

"But what if something happens during the hatching?"

"Arlin, you're fretting. There's nothing to worry about. Trust Hagrid, alright?"

"What are you two talking about?" Caroline asked.

"Nothing," Merlin grumbled, stabbing his eggs.

Caroline frowned. "You two aren't having a tiff, are you?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "No, Caroline, we're not. It's just a disagreement."

"About what?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself over," Perenelle gently reprimanded. "You have your rough patches with Henry and I have mine with Arlin. We'll work it out, Caroline."

The girl still looked concerned but let the matter drop. Henry was trying to catch Merlin's eye but the warlock ignored him. It had been a long time since he'd seen a dragon hatch and because of stupid school obligations he was stuck in a classroom all morning. Life was so unfair!

Merlin's foul mood continued throughout McGonagall's lesson and he didn't even try to pretend to find it difficult to vanish the teacup on his desk. He waved his wand the first try and the teacup disappeared. He then sat brooding while the other students struggled to even make the designs on their glassware invisible.

"Finished already, Penrys?"

Merlin looked up at Professor McGonagall.

"Yes, professor."

"Hmmm… may I see a demonstration?"

Merlin lazily waved his wand and his teacup reappeared. Without even whispering the incantation, he waved his wand again and the teacup vanished. He knew he was being careless – he could feel Perenelle's glare – but he really didn't care at the moment. He was tired of pretending and he didn't want to be here. He couldn't help not putting forth the effort to struggle like everyone else.

Professor McGonagall looked both surprised and impressed. "Ten points to Ravenclaw, Mr. Penrys. Since you have mastered the teapot, perhaps you'd like something a little more challenging to work on. Practice on vanishing the words on a page of your spell book."

"Yes, professor," Merlin muttered, pulling open his book and staring at the words.

This task was just as easy but he knew, as a fifth year, he shouldn't be able to do it. Trying not to allow his annoyance to get the better of him, Merlin purposefully messed up, allowing only the smaller words to disappear on the page. McGonagall smiled at his grimace, mistaking his irritation for failure.

"Don't lose heart, Penrys; I'm impressed you were able to vanish the smaller words at all. Keep practicing and I'm sure one day you'll be able to vanish the book's entire text instead of just one page."

She walked away and Merlin frowned. He hadn't just vanished the smaller words on one page but the whole book. Obviously the professor hadn't even considered checking that. Flicking his finger, the enter text disappeared, leaving the pages blank.

"Show off," Perenelle whispered next to him.

Merlin couldn't help smirking as he flicked his finger again and the text reappeared.

"You're lucky nobody else was watching," she added with an exasperated sigh.

Merlin glanced back and forth at his fellow fifth years, all of them too busy concentrating on their teacups to notice the extraordinary magic their peer had just performed.

"I've hidden in plain sight for centuries, Nellie. I know how to be discreet."

She rolled her eyes before waving her wand, causing her own teacup to vanish.

"Now who's showing off?"

"Shut up," she muttered, fighting a smile.

Merlin chuckled.

[][][]

Merlin decided to give Hagrid two weeks with the dragon. If he allowed the half giant any more time, the Norwegian Ridgeback would undoubtedly destroy his house.

The morning of his career interview with Professor Flitwick, Perenelle approached him in the common room.

"I'm down to my last dose of Elixir," she said, quickly showing him a small vial containing golden liquid before hiding it once more in her palm. "Have you been able to make any more?"

Merlin shook his head. "I'm sorry, Nellie; I've been distracted."

"You've had a lot on your mind," she said sympathetically.

"But I shouldn't have let your supply run so low," Merlin muttered, kicking himself.

"Don't do that."

"What?"

"Mentally berating yourself, putting yourself down," she clarified. "You don't need to do that, Arlin."

"I know," Merlin sighed. "Right, I'll need to get more supplies from Snape's private stores. Last time he showed up before I could take proper inventory of everything I took."

"Do you think it wise to borrow from him again? Why not have Albus order the supplies you need?"

Merlin shook his head. "The post might take a while to get here and I don't want to risk not having another dose ready in time."

Perenelle's gaze softened as she kissed him. "Be careful then."

Merlin grinned. "I'm always careful." He checked his watch. "I need to meet up with Flitwick. I'll see you later."

"Have fun discussing your career," she laughed.

Merlin pecked her on the cheek before leaving Ravenclaw Tower, descending the spiral steps before heading down the corridor that would lead to a staircase to the upper levels. Professor Flitwick's office was on the seventh floor, a humble abode decorated with a few portraits and comfortable furniture. The charms teacher's door was always open for Ravenclaws and the professor made it a tradition of keeping a tin of cupcakes in a drawer which he pulled out and enchanted to cheer up weary students. Merlin knocked on the door and entered, noticing the cupcakes sitting on the desk. Obviously previous fifth years must have been in need of a smile.

"Ah, Arlin, come in, my boy, come in," Flitwick squeaked from behind his desk.

Merlin smiled. He'd always liked Professor Flitwick. Coming from half-goblin descent, the man didn't discriminate against others. He had a love of learning and a kind heart. With years of practice he'd become an accomplished duelist and the most knowledgeable charms master alive – besides Merlin, of course. He was one of the few wizards today the ancient warlock admired.

"How are you, professor?" Merlin asked as he took a seat.

"Just fine, thank you," Flitwick said cheerfully as he ruffled through the stack of parchment on his desk. "Penrys, Penrys – ah, here we are! Now, it looks like you're interested in becoming an Auror?"

"Yes, sir."

"A fine choice, I'd say, for you. You could go into any field, though, and see success."

Merlin smiled. "You flatter me, professor."

Flitwick gazed at him with fondness. "It's isn't simple flattery, Arlin. You are, by far, the most talented student I have ever had the pleasure of teaching – and, in confidentiality, I'll tell you I'm not the only teacher to admit that."

Merlin wasn't surprised; Dumbledore had told him several times that his knack for magic had been noticed by all his teachers. He couldn't exactly help that, being magic incarnate and all.

Flitwick cleared his throat and pulled out a dark slip of parchment. "So, to be an Auror, they ask for a minimum of five N.E.W.T.'s and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations'. I don't think we'll need to worry about that concerning you." -The two shared a grin- "Besides your exams, you would be required to undergo a stringent series of character and aptitude tests at the Auror office. Again, I have no doubt you'll pass all of that with flying colors."

"Thank you, professor."

"I'm only speaking the truth, Arlin," he said with a large smile. "Now, the subjects you ought to take in your sixth and seventh year…"

The rest of the consultation went as Merlin expected. Flitwick made suggestions, Merlin asked questions typical for a fifth year to ask, and then he left the office with further praise from the tiny professor of how far he'd go in his chosen career field.

The afternoon was spent in double Potions with the Hufflepuffs. Snape swept up and down the rows, glaring at the poor examples of the Strengthening Solution most of the students had concocted. Merlin's potion, as always, was immaculate and completed before the specified time. Snape looked like he was going to blow a fuse when he noticed Merlin reading his Transfiguration textbook instead of working like the others.

"Penrys, do you think yourself above everyone else?" he asked, looming over the desk like a vampire.

Merlin calmly put his book down and addressed the professor. "Not at all, sir. I figured that since I finished with my potion that I would devote my time to studying for my O.W.L.s – as you suggested last we spoke."

Snape's lip curled. "Are you patronizing me?"

"No, sir," Merlin sincerely answered.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Penrys."

The other Ravenclaws looked outraged but Merlin merely blinked. He wasn't about to show Snape that he was rattled; not by the loss of points, no, but rather that he had done as the professor had asked and was being punished for it. He had half a mind to hex this man with the worst possible spell he could think of – and he had an arsenal at his disposal to use.

"Is there something besides studying for my O.W.L.s that you would prefer me to be doing at this moment, professor?" he asked instead.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "If you are going to study for your O.W.L.s, Penrys, I would prefer you to study the subject of Potions in my classroom since this is _Potions_ and not Transfiguration."

Merlin promptly closed his Transfiguration textbook and pulled out the one for Potions, flipping open the page and beginning to read. Feeling Snape's eyes still upon him, he looked up innocently. "Was there something else you needed, professor?"

The Potions Master's eyes flashed dangerously and he leaned forward. "I would tread very carefully from now on, Mr. Penrys," he dangerously whispered. "Raw talent can only get you so far."

He then swept away, moving on to bother some poor Hufflepuff in the back of the room. Unconcerned, Merlin returned to his book and flipped idly through the pages until the end of class. Like the others, he bottled his potion when the bell rang and left it on Snape's desk before leaving the dungeons.

"You were bloody brilliant back there, Arlin!" Henry praised as they made their way to dinner.

"I wasn't about to descend to Snape's level," Merlin said as he held Perenelle's hand. "That man is a master at provoking people into a fight. It would have been easy to give in but I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction."

"But you wanted to," said Caroline.

"We all wanted to, Caroline," Henry grumbled. "Stupid git. I hope he suffers from an incurable potions accident one of these days."

"Henry," Perenelle admonished, "nobody deserves that."

"Snape does."

"I'm just upset that Arlin wasn't doing anything wrong and yet he was punished for it anyway," Caroline grumbled. "I'd complain to someone, Arlin. Snape's been bullying you since first year. It can't go on."

"I'm perfectly capable of handling Snape on my own," Merlin replied as they sat down to eat.

"I'm with Caroline," said Henry as he loaded potatoes onto his plate, "you need to go to Dumbledore about this. If anyone can get the Headmaster to do something about Snape, it's you."

Merlin shook his head. "I won't worry him over something as trivial as this. Teachers don't have to like every student they teach."

"No but there's a difference between not liking someone and bullying them," Caroline argued, "and, from what I hear, you're not the only one Snape doesn't like. Harry Potter seems to be on the Potion Master's black list. I overheard some first years the other day gossiping about how Snape treated Potter in one of his classes. It sounded even worse than how he treats you, Arlin, and that's saying something."

"At least think about talking to Dumbledore about it," Perenelle suggested.

Merlin glanced at her to see if she was being sincere or just going with the flow of the conversation. When he saw the silent worry in her eyes, he knew she was serious. Sighing, he gave in.

"Alright, the next time I have a moment, I'll see if I can get an audience with him."

"Alright! Leave it to Nellie to break down Arlin's stubbornness," Henry grinned.

Merlin scowled. "I'm not saying it's going to happen tomorrow or anything. If you hadn't noticed, I'm just as bogged down as everyone else preparing for O. ."

Henry snorted into his potatoes. "If anyone can find free time when studying for O.W.L.s, it's you, Arlin. You can't use that as an excuse. We all know you're the first one done with every assignment the teachers throw at us."

"Don't make us drag you to Dumbledore's office," Caroline threatened.

Merlin groaned. He was being bullied into talking to Dumbledore about being bullied. How was this fair?

"Fine! I'm sure I can find time to talk to him tomorrow. Happy?"

"Immensely," Perenelle muttered, kissing him on the cheek.

Merlin decided to end the conversation by attacking his own meal. He was halfway through dinner when he noticed Harry and Hermione leaving the Gryffindor table. His brow furrowed. Where was Ron? He watched as the two first years left the hall, heading for the great oak doors. He stood up.

"There's something I remembered I need to do. I'll see you later tonight, alright?" he kissed Perenelle's cheek.

"Be careful," she whispered.

Realizing that she probably thought he was going off to Snape's private stores, Merlin smiled reassuringly at her. His original plan had been to go there after dinner but it was more pressing to find out what had happened to Ron and what Harry and Hermione were up to.

Leaving the Great Hall, he left the castle and saw Harry and Hermione in the distance hastening down to Hagrid's hut. Merlin turned himself invisible and picked up the pace. His longer legs enabled him to catch up with Harry and Hermione when they were almost to their destination.

"It's too late to change the plan now," Harry said to Hermione as they walked. "We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. And we have got the invisibility cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."

Merlin frowned. Hagrid had named the dragon Norbert? What kind of a name for a dragon was Norbert? And how did the Malfoy kid know about him? Merlin hadn't had much interaction with anyone in the Malfoy family – he tended to avoid associating with dark wizards – so it wasn't surprising that he hadn't realized that another one was now at Hogwarts. From the way Harry talked about him it was easy to deduce some kind of rivalry existed. If that was the case, and Malfoy knew about the dragon, this whole situation could grow a lot worse.

He'd have to talk to Dumbledore.

Merlin hadn't wanted to get the headmaster involved in the matter but if there was a potential threat to Norbert – and Hagrid, for that matter – then he had little choice. Hagrid was a friend and Norbert was Merlin's responsibility. He wasn't about to let the Ministry get involved. He'd seen the way some of them treated dragons. No, he needed to handle this himself.

Reaching the hut, he found Harry and Hermione outside with Hagrid talking to them out a window. Fang, Hagrid's boarhound, sat outside with a bandage around his tail. Afraid Norbert might have poisoned the poor thing, Merlin made a note to heal Fang after listening in on whatever the others were talking about.

"His friends will be here Saturday at midnight," Harry was saying. "They have to meet us at the tallest tower because they can't be seen carrying an illegal dragon all the way to Romania. This is our only chance, Hagrid. Malfoy hasn't done anything yet but he's still got time to go to the teachers."

"Hagrid, Norbert needs to be with other dragons," said Hermione. "And you know that Charlie will take care of him. Ron says he loves dragons just as much as you do."

Hagrid sniffled. "Great man, Charlie. I always liked him." His eyes filled with tears. "Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot – jus' playin' – he's only a baby, after all."

The house rattled as Norbert's tail smacked against it. Harry and Hermione didn't stick around after that since the baby was clearly demanding further attention. Merlin watched them go before heading over to Fang. The boarhound's ears snapped to his head and he began to growl.

"Easy," Merlin cooed, patting Fang's head. Though invisible, his touch instantly relaxed the dog. "That's it," he smiled, scratching Fang under his chin. "I'm just going to fix your tail, alright?"

Fang whimpered.

Merlin placed his hand over the wound and was relieved when he didn't feel a trace of dragon poison. The bone was broken though. Whispering a spell, the bone fused back together and Fang barked in thanks, licking any invisible surface of Merlin his tongue could find. Merlin chuckled, waving the dog away and standing up. Fang's barking alerted Hagrid because he opened the door and poked his head out, nervously looking around.

"Someone there?" he asked, his nerves making his voice quiver.

Without a word, Merlin made the door to Hagrid's garden gate slam. The half giant leapt a foot in the air before glancing worryingly back at Norbert.

Picking up his crossbow, he cooed to the dragon, "I'll be righ' back, alrigh'? Stay here."

Merlin slipped into the house before he could close the door. A low growl was the only warning Merlin had before a set of large teeth lashed out at him.

" **Liss, draca!"** he cried.

Norbert stilled, his large orange eyes looking about the room in confusion. Merlin shed his invisibility and approached the beast, unafraid. As he drew near, however, he couldn't help noticing Hagrid had made a serious mistake.

"No wonder you're upset with him," he chuckled as he rubbed the dragon's snout, "I would be too if someone mistook my gender. You can't blame him, though, you're the first dragon he's actually interacted with."

Norbert or Norberta as Merlin supposed he should call her, chirped and snuggled against him. Merlin knew he didn't have much time so he ordered her in the dragon tongue not to harm Hagrid or anyone else unless in self defense.

"They're going to take you to Romania, to a place where you'll be with other dragons," Merlin quickly explained. "Be good and when you're in the castle, be silent, alright? I've got to go before Hagrid comes back."

He rested the palm of his hand between the dragon's horns and whispered a spell of protection before turning invisible and rushing back to the door just as Hagrid opened it. Norberta let out the equivelant of a whimper but Merlin knew he couldn't stay.

"You alrigh'?" Hagrid asked with worry, setting down his crossbow and shutting the door.

Merlin barely made it out before it closed behind him. Letting out a sigh, he made his way back to the castle as the first sets of stars appeared overhead.

Norberta was a beautiful creature. Merlin couldn't help but smile as he thought of her and how cute she was. He had to commend Hagrid for at least giving her the proper amount of care a baby dragon should have. He was a little worried about how things would go Saturday night, however. He didn't know how Harry and Hermione were going to successfully get a dragon all the way up to the tallest tower even if they had an invisibility cloak. Maybe Dumbledore would have some ideas of how to keep the teachers from running into them? And what should he do about the Malfoy boy? Should he seek him out and discover what his plans were? He knew how to get into the Slytherin common room and he was going to be in the dungeons tonight anyway. It wouldn't be too hard to break in and overhear any plans the boy might have.

Making up his mind, Merlin cautiously entered the castle and headed for the dungeons. He reached Snape's private stores without incident and, once breaking the locking spell and slipping inside, he released his invisibility spell and set to work; it was easier picking out necessary supplies when he could actually see his hands.

Conjuring a small satchel, he selected the vital ingredients he would need, carefully placing vials and herbs within the bag. As he worked, part of his mind worried over how exactly he could help Harry and Hermione Saturday night. It was due to this distraction that he didn't notice the door opening behind him until the room suddenly flooded with wand light.

Spinning around, Merlin knew he was in trouble. Standing there with a look of murderous triumph on his face was Severus Snape.

"Who would have thought," he whispered, his voice dripping with glee, "the model student, Arlin Penrys, a common thief. Follow me."

Refusing to look like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Merlin held his head high and followed Snape all the way to Dumbledore's office. Clearly the professor wanted to humiliate him as much as possible; he could have handled this situation himself but no, of course he had to rub it in Dumbledore's face that one of his favorite students was not so honorable after all.

"Come in," Dumbledore called after Snape rapped on the door.

The Potions Master sent Merlin one last cruel sneer before pushing the door open. "Inside," he snapped.

Merlin strode in, ignoring the curious looks of the portraits on the wall. Dumbledore's silver eyebrows rose a fraction at the sight of Merlin and Snape together, the latter obviously rather pleased with himself.

"Severus, what is this about?"

"You are aware, headmaster, of my reports that someone has been stealing from my private stores," Snape stated. "I finally caught the culprit."

"Technically I haven't been stealing since I've been leaving plenty of money to replace everything I've used," Merlin cheekily inserted.

" _Silence!"_ Snape snapped. "Regardless of payment or lack thereof, Penrys has been pilfering potions ingredients that require a handler's permit in order to use. I have high reason to believe he is making illegal potions in this school and demand he confess and be punished accordingly."

Merlin knew there was no way he'd be getting out of this without some form of punishment and from the subdued look on his face so did Dumbledore. The headmaster let out a heavy sigh.

"Arlin, what do you have to say concerning these accusations?"

"I can't help that the current curriculum is rather boring, professor," Merlin answered truthfully. "Creating potions on a more advanced level seemed more interesting and challenging – though I've shared nothing I've made with other students." This was also technically true since Perenelle wasn't necessarily a student but an adult in disguise. "I only wish to test my limits. You can't fault me for being curious and wanting to further my education."

Dumbledore's mustache twitched. This situation was somewhat hilarious, after all. If Snape knew exactly who he wanted to punish… But, alas, he did not. That left only one option and, though it wasn't appealing to either of them, both old men continued to play the roles they were forced to.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and said, "Regardless of curiosity, Arlin, students are not permitted to brew illegal potions within this castle. I'm afraid that I will have to allow Severus to bestow a detention for your actions."

"Detention?" Snape repeated. "Headmaster, this is a recurring act!"

"While I recognize that, I also see that Arlin realizes his wrong doing and is willing to take whatever punishment you deem fit. Given his previously clean record, I will not consider expulsion neither do I feel that a series of detentions is necessary. Arlin will need every ounce of spare time to prepare for his O.W.L.s. One detention should suffice, Severus."

Snape looked like he'd been force-fed pond scum. Merlin tried to remain the epitome of a humble, regretful student as he watched the silent battle of wills unfold. Dumbledore's gaze never wavered, his blue eyes as hard as ice. Rage caused the Potions Master to visibly shake, his face whitening with every passing second. But, after another tense moment, Snape gave in.

"Fine!" he spat. "Saturday night at eight o'clock, my office, Penrys. Do _not_ be late."

Without another word, he swept from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Merlin groaned. His detention was taking place the same night Norberta was supposed to be taken away. Running his hands over his face, he cursed in the Old Tongue.

"It's your own fault, you know."

Merlin looked up to see Dumbledore watching him with a mixture of amusement and pity. Some of the portraits held similar expressions. Merlin frowned.

"Believe it or not, I don't really care that I got caught. There's something _else_ I'm worried about."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

Merlin spent the next ten minutes explaining Norberta and the plan to relocate her Saturday night.

"As the last Dragonlord it's my responsibility to make sure Norberta is taken care of. I can't really do that if I'm stuck in a detention with Snape."

Dumbledore sighed. "I hate to say this but maybe you should have thought of that before Severus caught you."

"I was caught _because_ I was thinking about it!" Merlin snapped before letting out a bone weary sigh. "Sorry," he muttered, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "I know it's my fault that I'm in this situation. I'll just have to ask Perenelle to make sure Harry and Hermione reach Charlie's friends without incident."

"I could also get involved."

Merlin shook his head. "I'd rather you stayed out of it, Albus. We don't want Harry and Hermione wondering how you came to know about Norberta. They'll suspect it was Malfoy and I'm sure they'd accuse him of reporting to you. Malfoy in turn would know he hadn't been the one to do so and might start an investigation of his own. I don't need anything else coming back to me."

"Maybe I could convince Severus to change the day of your detention."

Merlin let out a humorless laugh. "Snape has been trying to punish me since first year, Albus. He's not going to let you override him again. Besides, I don't want to cause any more contention between you two. I need to lie in the bed I've made."

"The great Merlin getting detention," one of the portraits sneered. "I wonder what Professor Snape will make you do."

Merlin grimly smirked. "Any punishment he gives will be cake compared to what Arthur used to make me do. Besides, I've also lived through torture during the Dark Ages. Nothing Snape dishes out can be worse than that."

Dumbledore's countenance was heavy as he observed his old friend. "Is it reasonable for me to be disturbed by the nonchalance of that comment?"

Merlin shrugged. "I endured terrible things, Albus. Not all of my history is sunshine and roses. The point is you don't need to worry about me. I can handle myself. And Perenelle, Harry, and Hermione can handle the dragon situation this weekend. Trust us."

Dumbledore looked tired as he smiled. "I do trust you, Merlin. I just wish I could do more."

Merlin's gaze softened as he observed his friend. "Sometimes the hardest thing to do is nothing. Believe me, I know how frustrating that can be. But it would be better in the long run if you didn't get involved."

"I know. Just be careful from now on."

"I will be." Merlin stood. "If there's nothing else…?"

"No, I think you're free to go."

He made it to the door when Dumbledore called him back.

"Merlin, I'm sorry you got caught."

The ancient warlock smiled. "It just goes to show that after all these years Arthur was right about me. I really am a clumsy idiot. Goodnight Albus."

[][][]

Perenelle was in a rather foul mood when the day of the detention arrived.

"I still can't believe you allowed yourself to be caught," she grumbled, sitting in a recliner in the Room of Requirement while her fingers busied themselves with yarn.

Merlin applied three different herbs to the cauldron he was bent over, his other hand stirring the silver mixture counterclockwise every other second.

"At least I got everything I needed."

"Yes, but at what cost? You now have a black mark on your record – something Percy Weasley was only too happy to point out in class yesterday."

Merlin rolled his eyes. In the middle of Herbology with the Gryffindors Percy overheard Henry's outburst over Merlin's detention and, of course, he couldn't resist sticking his nose in the air and declaring that _he'd_ never received any form of punishment.

"I never would have thought a _prefect_ would stoop to something as low as rule breaking," Percy had said while cleaning off his garden tools. "Then again, there are _certain_ _individuals_ I never would have expected Dumbledore to award with a prefect's badge either."

"Percy Weasley is an ignorant child who is in for a very rude awakening once leaving school," Merlin muttered. "He's never had to make a life-altering decision in his life. Besides, what he should be concerning himself with is what happened to his brother. Ron was lucky Norberta's poison hadn't spread too far. He could have died."

"While I agree that Percy should be tending to Ron, he's too busy spurning you and walking around like he's the king of the school. It's irritating."

Merlin smirked as he watched her furiously attack her yarn, crocheting it into a sweater. Nogard was on the ground, chasing the sting back and forth as the ball moved about. Perenelle tended to crochet when she was agitated. Merlin had seen her make a blanket in less than a week when really mad. Thankfully she hadn't reached that point.

"I didn't think his behavior would upset you so much," he chuckled.

"I'm not just mad at Percy!" she snapped.

Merlin got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Grateful that the potion was at a point where it needed to simmer for twenty minutes before adding the next ingredient, he turned and gave his wife his full attention.

"Are you mad at me?" he hesitantly asked.

"Yes," Perenelle snapped before adding, "And no."

Merlin frowned. "Well, which is it?"

She started working on a sleeve. "I'm frustrated about this whole situation! You getting detention, us having to pretend we're fifteen and suffering from homework that's ridiculously easy, dealing with the threat of Voldemort wandering the school, making sure a dragon gets safely to where it needs to go, wondering if a trio of first years is going to discover who we really are, worrying over –"

Merlin stopped her tirade by pulling her crochet hook out of her hands.

"Merlin, give that back!"

Instead, the warlock yanked her to her feet, scooped her into his arms, and carried her over to a large bed that had literally just appeared.

"You know, I think I know why you're really upset," he muttered as he set her down on the mattress.

Perenelle folded her arms and looked up at him stubbornly. "That's not fair! You can't just expect me to get all excited when I'm in the middle of a rant."

"I think I can help you get excited," he muttered and he started massaging her shoulders.

The tension slowly left her muscles and Perenelle let out a soft groan. "You're horrible, you know that?"

"How so?"

Instead of answering Perenelle flipped around and pounced, her arms latching around his neck as she delivered a furiously amazing kiss to his lips. Merlin lay back, enjoying how her body pressed up against his, relishing in the closeness they'd been forced to deny themselves for weeks on end. His fingers combed through her soft caramel hair and she moaned happily in response. It didn't take long after that for clothes to be shed nor for them to participate in the greatest form of love a couple could have. When finished, both were completely satisfied.

"I love you, Merlin," Perenelle whispered, kissing his shoulder.

Merlin smiled. "I love you too. Am I forgiven now for being reckless?"

Perenelle sighed. "I suppose so."

Nogard decided to make his appearance known then, blowing woodchips against Merlin's back.

"Oy!" Merlin complained, rolling over.

Nogard snapped at him before frantically jabbing his head towards the potion – which was currently billowing golden smoke. Merlin leapt from the bed and rushed over, removing the Elixir from the heat and adding the last herb, stirring furiously and counting to sixty three. When finished, the potion was a healthy glowing gold.

"Whew, thanks Nogard," he sighed. "I would have had to start over if you hadn't poked me."

Nogard affectionately rubbed his head against Merlin's finger before taking off and flying circles through the air, looking rather proud of himself. Perenelle giggled and Merlin turned to see her watching him.

"As welcome as I find the view, you might want to put your clothes back on," she grinned.

Merlin looked down and smirked. "I'm sorry; I was more concerned about making sure all those herbs I took didn't go to waste."

"I'm glad you did," she said, watching him redress. "It would have made Snape's detention be for nothing."

"And we can't have that, can we?" he muttered, kissing her cheek. "So, have you figured out how to keep Harry and Hermione from being discovered by any night patrols?"

"I think so," Perenelle mused. "An illusion spell here, a deflection spell there; it shouldn't be too hard. Are you worried about your detention at all?"

"Nope," Merlin stated, lying back down on the bed with his arms behind his head. "It's like I told Albus, there's no chore Snape can make me do that's worse than what Arthur put me through."

Perenelle chuckled. "That's true since mucking out stables and cleaning chamber pots are no longer issues."

"Thank goodness," Merlin muttered. "Modern technology has solved so many of my past problems. I owe the inventors through the ages a great debt."

After a moment of silence, Perenelle let out a soft groan and grumbled, "We need to be getting back into the world. I fear we've been gone too long."

Merlin frowned. He knew she was right but he really didn't want to leave. Leaving meant having to pretend again. The morning had been so nice, not having to worry about studying or feeling the disappointed eyes of your peers.

"Come on," Perenelle encouraged, pushing herself off the bed and stretching. "The Elixir has to sit for a week before its ready and you need to eat something before dealing with Snape tonight. I won't have you going through detention without food in your stomach."

Merlin stood and wrapped his arms around her. "You're the boss."

Waving his hand, the cauldron shrunk down until it was the size of a galleon. Placing a non-spilling spell over the opening, Merlin pocketed the concoction before freezing Nogard and placing him in his other pocket. He then followed his lovely wife out of the room, silently wishing they could have remained there the rest of the day, unconcerned about dragons, children, and detentions.

[][][]

At eight o'clock, Merlin knocked on the door to Snape's office, fairly proud of himself for being on time.

"Enter."

The room was dimly lit, grimy, and reminded Merlin of many cliché muggle movie scenes where mad scientists displayed jars of unknown substances on the walls in laboratories. Snape sat behind his desk, scribbling something on a piece of parchment, his brow slightly furrowed in thought. Merlin waited patiently, imagining how different this dismal atmosphere would be if the Potions Master would let in a little more light besides the few candles lining his desk and the pitiful fire sputtering in the fireplace.

Snape finished his missive and stood up. "Follow me," he ordered, sweeping past Merlin with an evil glint in his dark eyes.

Not liking that look one bit, Merlin turned on his heel and followed the professor as they left the office and headed for an extra room Snape sometimes used when an accident occurred in his usual classroom. Merlin made a gagging noise the second he stepped through the door, hastily covering his nose with his sleeve. The room _reeked_. Snape stopped next to a table where four huge metal tubs sat. Two were empty while the other two were full of –

"Erumpent dung," he explained as Merlin reluctantly came closer. "Since you seem to enjoy creating potions of an advanced level, I thought it appropriate to reward you with the knowledge of a very rare ingredient used in several complex concoctions.

"Native to Africa, the Erumpent is a highly dangerous creature with a horn filled with a deadly fluid that, if injected into an object, causes said object to explode. Potioneers have found that the orange seeds found in the creature's droppings produce remarkable results in many potions devoted to both healing and poison."

Snape slammed a three gallon pail on the counter next to the tubs of manure. With an evil smirk, he continued, "Your detention will be to fill this entire pail with seeds. Only when the pail is full will you be allowed to leave."

Merlin scowled. Trying to keep the annoyance from his tone, he asked, "May I be permitted to use gloves, sir?"

"Unfortunately yes," Snape grumbled, "since the oils from your skin might alter the magical properties of the seeds. I will be in my office but don't even think about using magic or leaving this room until you are done. I will know if you do."

The overly large bat then left the room, slamming the door closed behind him. Merlin felt the containment spell being placed on the door as well as a magic-tracing spell lingering in the air. He could easily use Old magic to speed up the task and relinquish the smell (since New magic couldn't trace Old) but then he'd be done sooner than was supposed to be believable. Sighing in resignation, he set his bag on the counter and rummaged through it until he pulled out his gloves. He put them on after removing his watch and rolling his sleeves up past his elbows.

Snape must really hate him for assigning this kind of punishment. Merlin knew all about the advanced properties of processed erumpent orange seeds as well as how expensive they were. Snape had to have at least spent over two hundred galleons for this much dung. To sacrifice so much just to punish him; Merlin shook his head and set to work.

The smell was ten times worse than the stables in Camelot and the sick squelching and feeling of muck over his gloved hands left the warlock gagging several times. This was definitely in the top three worst detentions Merlin had ever had to endure in all his years of magical schooling. The disgusting task took forever, the minutes slipping into hours, the pail filling way too slowly for Merlin's liking. A part of him had hoped he'd finish his detention early so he could help Perenelle tonight but it looked as if his wife was on her own in assisting Harry and Hermione.

As he worked, the warlock grumbled in his mind – since speaking only heightened the foul stench he'd been forced to breathe. He called Snape every foul name you could possibly imagine; some names he hadn't used in centuries but the man deserved every last derogatory title. Nobody possessing an ounce of magic sifted through erumpent dung with their hands now-a-days. Such a task as this was one of the highest of humiliations. It didn't help that the room's ventilation was terrible, leaving very little circulation to clear the stench he was being forced to endure.

 _I'm burning everything I'm wearing_ , he decided, _along with spending all of tomorrow in the prefect's bathroom._

Eventually Merlin's grueling task finally came to an end, the last orange seed falling from his dung-covered hands into the pail. He'd searched through every ounce of dung, making sure he hadn't missed a single seed, dropping handful after handful of erumpent remains into the empty tubs Snape had provided. His shoulders ached, his nose felt like it was going to fall off, and his stomach dangerously churned. Shuffling over to the sink, Merlin removed his gloves, threw them in the waste basket, and began to wash his hands. He washed them five times before being satisfied enough to leave the room. Grabbing his bag and wondering what time it was, he pushed the door to the dungeon open and walked down to Snape's office. Never in his life had he enjoyed the smell of fresh, dung-free air so much! The Potions Master's door was already open, the man himself sitting behind his desk reading a book.

"I've filled the pail, sir," Merlin declared, trying to hide how exhausted he was.

Snape's dark eyes lifted and he surveyed Merlin with a calculating expression before standing up. Merlin followed him back to the classroom with dread. He'd just escaped that horrible room and he had no desire to step back into the stench infested place. Trying not to gag, he waited in the doorway for the Spawn of Evil to tell him he was free to go. After an agonizing minute, Snape turned to him.

"I hope this has taught you a lesson, Penrys," he jibed, noticing Merlin's discomfort. "Potions ingredients are expensive and take a long time to gather. I warn you now, do not ever steal from me again."

"Yes, sir."

"You may go."

Merlin twisted around and left, not allowing his fatigue to show until he'd successfully left the dungeons.

As he wearily climbed the marble staircase, the only think occupying his head was a hot bath and the strongest soap he could get his hands on. Wondering if the prefect's bathroom would be free, he pulled his watch from his bag to see what time it actually was. Just after midnight. His heart leapt. _Harry and Hermione might still be up in the tallest tower with Norberta!_ Forgetting the bath, Merlin's feet automatically changed course, heading for the Astronomy Tower.

He was halfway there when he saw wand light at the end of the second floor corridor. Turning invisible, he pressed himself against the wall and waited. Professor McGonagall came into view, seeming to have caught a student out of bed. Thankfully, it wasn't Harry or Hermione but a boy with pale blonde hair and a rather haughty appearance. Merlin instantly knew who this was though he'd never seen the lad before. It was the Malfoy boy. Amused by the petulant expression on the child's face, Merlin waited until the two were gone before continuing on. He found Perenelle, invisible, in the corridor leading to the tower's entrance ten minutes later.

Her magical signature giving her away, Merlin removed his own invisibility.

"Having fun?"

A small gasp followed by the appearance of his adoring wife left Merlin smiling. Perenelle swatted his chest.

"You startled me!" she hissed and then her nose wrinkled. "Merlin, you _stink!"_

"Sorry. So, are they up there?"

Perenelle nodded. "They might have gotten caught by McGonagall but she was already preoccupied finding the Malfoy boy."

"I saw them," Merlin smirked. "I'm guessing he was trying to get Harry and Hermione into trouble?"

"Yes but obviously it backfired." The two shared a grin. "Do you want to leave now?"

Merlin shook his head. "I'd rather wait until Norberta's gone."

"Alright then. So, mind telling me why you smell like an outhouse?"

Gesturing to an empty classroom, Merlin led her inside and kept the door propped open to listen for any shuffling footsteps. He then proceeded to share his rather disgusting experience in the dungeons. Perenelle shared his views on both Snape and the task.

"That detention was completely unreasonable," she complained. "I can see filling up a small pail but three whole gallons?"

"He's a right foul git," Merlin sighed.

"I have half a mind to go down there and –"

But whatever she was about to say was cut off by a set of footsteps. Merlin quickly cast an illusion charm on the room and was glad for it when Argus Filch pushed the door open, his narrowed eyes searching the apparently empty space. Neither Merlin nor Perenelle dared to breathe. The caretaker looked like he was about to come in when the sound of two pairs of feet where heard clambering down the Astronomy Tower steps, deviating his attention elsewhere. Filch shuffled away. Merlin and Perenelle shared a glance before hastening to the door. A second later Harry and Hermione appeared and Merlin quietly cursed.

"Well, well, well," Filch whispered in the darkness, "we _are_ in trouble."

There was nothing they could. Merlin and Perenelle watched as a mortified Harry and Hermione were led away. Once the coast was clear, Merlin and Perenelle left the classroom, the former letting out another curse.

"Why weren't they wearing the invisibility cloak?" Merlin asked. "They had it with them, right?"

Perenelle nodded. "They must have left it in the tower."

Sure enough, upon a short investigation, they found the cloak lying on the ground near the tower steps.

"Careless," Merlin grumbled, picking it up.

"They're children," Perenelle reminded. "They probably forgot about it the midst of their success."

"At least Norberta is gone," Merlin sighed. "Come on; we should go before any more teachers decide to scour this area."

"What are you going to do about the cloak?" Perenelle whispered as they entered Ravenclaw Tower a few minutes later.

Merlin thought a moment before making a decision. "I'll give it to Albus. Out of the two of us, he'll have an easier time getting it back to Harry."

Perenelle chuckled. "Perks of being the headmaster versus being a fifth year student."

"Exactly," Merlin sighed.

Bidding his wife goodnight, he climbed the boy's staircase and hid Harry's cloak within the trunk at the foot of his bed. Once the locks were secured, the warlock grabbed a spare set of robes and quietly left the room, transporting to the prefect's bathroom because, despite the lateness of the hour, there was no way he was going to bed smelling like erumpent dung. And, of course, he burnt his clothes before getting into the bath. He was a man of his word, after all.

* * *

 **A shout out to my husband for giving me the idea for Merlin's detention. I was looking for something rather foul and I think he made the perfect suggestion. I will say that I took some liberties in regards to an erumpent's diet. There's nothing I've been able to find online that says what they eat nor if leftovers in their remains become magical in any way. Since it's comparable to a rhino and rhinos can eat fruit, I got creative. Hope it was believable. As always, thanks for the reviews and favorites. You guys make my day. :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter**

* * *

Chapter 11

Imbalance

* * *

In less than a week, Harry Potter had become the most despised student at the school. Jeers and insults followed the youth wherever he went, the only praise he received being from the Slytherins who were all too happy to be back in first place for the House Cup. Merlin was beside himself with disgust. The behavior these children were showing was downright immature.

"Their vision is so limited!" he complained to Perenelle one day as the two sat next to the Great Lake, taking a break from 'studying'. "Can't they see that winning the House Cup doesn't even truly matter?"

"It does to them," Perenelle sighed, leaning on her elbow while watching her husband pace. "They're children, Merlin. What do you expect?"

Merlin let out a curse before flopping down next to her. "I expect _more_ ," he grumbled. "None of them are even considering the emotional damage their causing that boy – as if Harry hasn't had enough already."

Perenelle sat up and wrapped her arm around his torso, leaning her head against his shoulder. "You've always cared for him in a way others haven't."

"Not enough for him to know," Merlin snapped. "I've kept an eye on him but I haven't done anything to alleviate his situation."

"But that's not entirely your fault," she admonished. "The Old Religion is at work in Harry's life. You know you can't meddle with it. You can only watch and protect when allowed."

"And I hate it sometimes," he said vehemently before his anger morphed into guilt. "I haven't paid him any attention since he came to Hogwarts. I just assumed that life would be better for him now that he's away from that Hell hole he was forced to grow up in. I've been so consumed with protecting the Stone, worrying about Voldemort, and pretending to be Arlin that I've completely neglected to check on him."

"Harry Potter is not your destiny," Perenelle reminded. "He has one, yes, but it is not your job to take care of him."

"I just don't want to see another child of Destiny fail," he whispered despairingly.

Perenelle kissed his cheek. "You won't let Harry fail, Merlin. Look what you've done so far to keep him safe. You're protecting the one thing Voldemort currently believes will restore him to power. In essence, you're protecting Harry."

"Preserving him, more like," Merlin angrily replied, "Making sure he lives long enough to learn what he needs to in order to at least stand a chance."

"Then count it as a victory you're at least doing something," she consoled. "Remember how many times Arthur stumbled and fell before he became king?"

A bitter smile lifted Merlin's lips. Yes, he could remember. He lost count of how many times the dollophead had made a poor decision that he later had to help him clean up. Seeing his smile, Perenelle continued.

"Though at times it was hard for you to watch, those failures and hardships helped Arthur become the man you were proud of. Now you have to watch as Harry is belittled and ridiculed by his peers. While I agree that it's wrong and I wish there was something we could do to help the poor child, he needs to experience this. Taking responsibility for breaking school rules – even if the intentions were noble – will help him grow to be a better man."

Merlin sighed before drawing her close and kissing her forehead. "Have I ever told you how wise you are?"

"A few times," she mused, "but I don't mind you mentioning it more."

Merlin chuckled before kissing her. "Thanks Nellie."

Her smile was radiant as she replied, "You're welcome."

[][][]

Over the next few days Merlin became convinced that the teachers were trying to kill the fifth years. The amount of information they were trying to shove in the children's heads in both class and homework was enough to turn their brains to mush. Merlin had no issues, of course, but he felt awful having to watch his peers suffer so much.

"I can't do this," Henry groaned two weeks before the O.W.L.'s were to take place. He slammed his forehead against the table over his study notes and mourned, "There's too much to remember. I should just resign from being a wizard and open a food stand on some corner in London."

"I don't think you're meant to work in the food industry, Henry," Merlin said while Caroline sympathetically rubbed circles into her boyfriend's back. "You're just stressed."

Henry looked at Merlin with daggers in his eyes. "And you're obviously not! What are you doing anyway, Arlin?"

Merlin glanced down at his book and shrugged. "Reading."

"The Tales of Beedle the Bard?" Caroline said in disbelief, recognizing a page from the story of The Fountain of Fair Fortune. "You aren't even studying!"

"Of course he isn't," Henry petulantly retorted. "He doesn't _need_ to. Arlin's too _perfect_ , too _smart_ , for studying. It's beneath him."

"Henry!" Perenelle admonished but the youth was on a role.

"Why can't you be like the rest of us?" he shouted, drawing the attention of the other Ravenclaw kids. "You've always been one step ahead. _Every – single – year!_ Do you even have to _try?_ What makes you so special anyway?"

Merlin's eyes were wide as he finally became aware of something he'd never noticed before. And he considered himself to be _observant_. Well, clearly he was a fool. Looking around, he saw the green monster of jealousy wasn't only in Henry's eyes. Everyone in the room, from first to seventh year, was staring at him with some form of contempt. While Merlin didn't particularly care what the others thought, Henry was his friend and it hurt to hear such bitterness in his tone.

"I had no idea you felt that way," he quietly whispered.

"Of course not!" Henry snapped. "You've never had to live in your shadow!"

"Enough!" Perenelle cried, leaping to her feet. Henry didn't say anymore as he turned away, unable to look at his best friend. Perenelle grabbed Merlin's hand and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, Arlin. Let's go."

Merlin allowed her to steer him from the room. They traveled down several corridors before he gently pulled her to a stop.

"I didn't know he felt that way about me – that any of them felt that way," Merlin quietly confessed, staring out a window before glancing at her. "Did you?"

Perenelle sighed in resignation. "I knew, but I didn't think Henry's resentment was so deep. Merlin, you can't let this get to you."

"I thought he was my friend."

"He is! Oh, Merlin, can't you see? He's always been jealous but he cares about you. He really does. He's just under a lot of stress. Magic comes so easy to you because it _is_ you. But for the others they have to work at it. Some, like Henry, have to work really hard to understand it. Their whole lives are hinging on how well they do in school so of course they're going to be jealous of someone who is breezing through classes without a care in the world."

"But I can't help that," Merlin said somewhat defensively. "I can't help what I am."

"I know," Perenelle consoled, holding him tight. "I know."

Merlin was torn. Had he really been so blind not to notice the resentment? Part of his heart broke as he remembered something he'd learned long ago.

"Even among my own kind, I'm an anomaly," he whispered. "I'll never have a place where I belong, will I?"

"You do have a place, Merlin," Perenelle replied, "With me. And before, you had one in Camelot."

Merlin shook his head. "No. Arthur never knew who I really was."

"But the others did after he was gone. Gwen repealed the ban on magic and made you Court Sorcerer. The people loved and respected you. You told me yourself that you finally felt like you fit in there."

"Yes but I also said I never felt complete."

"Of course you didn't," she agreed, "Arthur was gone."

"And he still is," Merlin whispered.

Perenelle squeezed his hand. "I know. And I know he's the only one who can really give you everything you've ever wanted. I've helped you but I've never completely been able to heal you. And that's okay. Really, it is. I understand that my role in your long life has been to help you cope, to help you have some sense of happiness until he returns. He'll be able to fix everything I can't. I'm just sorry that you have to suffer in a world of magic as well as a world without. Nobody deserves to suffer as you have, Merlin. I just wish I could make it better."

Merlin looked at her distraught face, her beautiful eyes filled with so much sorrow and pain.

"You _have_ made it better," he assured her, caressing her cheek. "You have no idea how alone I was before you came. You brought light back into my life, Nellie, and I'll forever love you for it. Thank you."

She reached up and kissed him before pulling away and grabbing his hand.

"Come on."

"Where are we going?" he asked as she led him along.

"You and I need a night off."

He allowed her to lead him without complaint. He had no idea what he'd done to deserve her but Merlin was thanking every star above that Perenelle loved him despite his faults. Deep down he knew that if the others knew who he truly was they wouldn't be ignorant as to why he was so gifted with magic. He knew there would always be witches and wizards who resented him but he hoped that wouldn't include his friends. At least he had Perenelle, Dumbledore, Newt, and Tina. They may be few but they were the best friends he could ask for. Maybe, one day, Henry and Caroline would know too.

Perenelle took him to the Prefect's bathroom.

Of course she would take him here; Merlin loved taking baths when he was distressed.

But instead of allowing him to start filling the tub, she stopped him, took out her wand, and magicked up a chair, indicating for him to sit. Raising a curious eyebrow, Merlin did as asked. Perenelle then made the curtains hide the mermaid painting and conjured at least a hundred white candles, the small round orbs floating over their heads like solid, dimly glowing bubbles. She flicked her wand one last time at the multiple faucets lining the vast bathtub in the floor and several turned on at once. Surveying her work with satisfaction, she pocketed her wand and settled behind Merlin, her hands reaching up to rub deep circles into his shoulders. A groan escaped Merlin's lips and he instantly relaxed, feeling the tension knots break apart under his wife's ministrations.

The massage worked wonders for both Merlin's body and spirit. Temporarily forgetting about the resentment of his peers and his worries over Voldemort and the Stone, Merlin focused solely on the moment, enjoying every second of it. After a time, Perenelle stopped and turned to face him, her hazel eyes now dancing with a fire that immediately lit Merlin's soul. After helping him to his feet, she reached up and pulled out the pin holding up her hair. Long caramel locks fell freely before she swept them to one shoulder. Merlin's fingers twitched, desperate to touch them. Smiling seductively, Perenelle leaned in until her lips brushed his earlobe.

"Stay still," she whispered.

Merlin nodded, closing his eyes as a pleasurable shiver traveled down his spine. Her hands were smooth and gentle as they removed his school robe. Her silken lips occasionally connected with his skin, kissing different areas while her hands worked. After successfully removing his clothing, she stepped back and started on her own, allowing Merlin to enjoy the view. Once she was bare, she held out a hand and smiled at him. Merlin hastened towards her and tripped slightly. Her giggle echoed around the room like music to his ears as she caught him before he could fully land on his face. Smiling sheepishly up at her, he regained his balance and the two descended into the now full tub. Merlin pulled her close and rested his head against her shoulder.

"I love you, Perenelle."

"I love you too," she said, reaching up to stroke the back of his head with slightly damp fingers. "I always will."

Merlin sought her lips, kissing them with the hopes of conveying the feelings he couldn't express with words. This woman had saved him in so many ways. It was cruel that she would never be able to make him whole but she had come remarkably close – closer than anyone ever had. She had been with him for so long, had seen him at his best and at his worst, and yet loved him all the same. How incredible she was. The early sorrow that had been threatening to drown him had completely disappeared because of her love and compassion. Merlin kissed her with everything he had, enjoying the way her bare skin rubbed against his own.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN ARE YOU _DOING?!"_

Merlin and Perenelle pulled apart, a horrified gasp escaping them at the sight of Percy Weasley standing a few paces within the room. The boy's eyes were as wide as goose eggs behind his horn rimmed glasses, his face as dark as a cherry. Merlin automatically pulled Perenelle behind him, shielding her body as best he could.

"Percy, this isn't what you think," he began.

"Really? Care to explain then, Penrys, why both of you are in the _same_ _tub_ while your clothes are–are –"

He gestured wildly to the garments on the floor. Merlin was too panicked to respond. Percy drew himself to his full height, his eyes blazing with fury.

"I've heard of situations like this before but _never_ have they involved prefects. You've just thrown away _everything!_ You'll never be Head Boy or Head Girl now. You're going to be _expelled!_ How could you do something so foolish?"

"Percy –"

" _No_ , Arlin!"

Merlin froze. Percy had _never_ addressed him by his first name before. While still utterly mortified, there was something else in the Gryffindor prefect's eyes. Disappointment?

"I'm going to Dumbledore!" he cried, turning on his heel and running from the room.

A full thirty seconds passed before the shock wore off.

Perenelle cursed. "This is bad. This is really, _really_ bad!"

"Why didn't I just obliviate him?!" Merlin mourned, scrambling for the tub's edge.

They dried themselves off and began to dress but panic made things take longer than usual, Merlin dropping his robes several times and Perenelle fighting to get her socks on her feet. Both left the room a few minutes later, terror in their hearts. There was every chance Percy could report what he saw to the first teacher he came across but Merlin drastically prayed the boy would hold his tongue until he reached the headmaster. Dumbledore knew but others... Merlin didn't want to think about having to revise their minds. He hated messing with another's memories, knowing how sacred they were himself. He was loath already over having to alter Percy's.

Reaching the seventh floor, Merlin was about to blast the stone gargoyle to pieces when Percy appeared, descending the circular staircase with a haughty smile on his lips. Merlin and Perenelle filled with dread. They were too late.

"What are you doing here, Penrys?" Percy demanded, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Merlin's brow knit with confusion. "Huh?"

Percy huffed. "If you think you can talk your way into becoming Head Boy, then you'll be severely disappointed. The headmaster just told me himself that I've pretty much got the position in the bag. Too bad; you had so much promise, but it would appear that you never succeeded in getting deep enough into Dumbledore's pocket."

And on that note the redhead threw his nose in the air and strode away, his triumphant smile returning to his face.

"What in the _world_ just happened?" Perenelle asked, bewildered.

"No idea," Merlin replied, just as confused. Shaking his head, he made for the staircase. "Come on."

He didn't even bother knocking. They entered to find Dumbledore sitting behind his desk with his fingers threaded together, his eyes fixed straight ahead with a firm frown on his face. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. The exasperation and disappointment radiating from him was enough to cause the mightiest of men to wither in shame.

Merlin's hand shook as he ran his fingers through his wet hair. "Albus –"

"Do I really need to lecture you, Merlin?" he interrupted, his voice calm.

It would have been better if he had shouted. Why did this man – _who was centuries younger than him –_ have the capability of making him feel like a guilty teenager? Merlin almost felt like he was back in Camelot facing the wrath of another old man he respected more than anyone else. Though they looked completely different, the uncanny resemblance between Dumbledore and Gaius in this moment was staggering. The frown, the raised eyebrow, the disappointed eyes; they were all the same.

"It's my fault," Perenelle said, stepping forward. "I instigated it."

"I'm just as guilty, Nellie," said Merlin, unwilling to let her take full responsibility.

"Indeed," Dumbledore sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose just under his half-moon spectacles. "Lucky for us all, Mr. Weasley only reported the incident to me."

"You're sure?" Merlin pressed.

"I read his mind and then took the responsibility of removing what he witnessed from his memory."

Merlin's shoulders sagged in both relief and guilt. "Thank you, Albus."

"Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"This cannot happen again. While I cannot -and will not- force you both into abstaining from such activities, they can no longer be tolerated within this school. From now on you will have to enjoy the bliss of marriage somewhere else in your spare time."

"We understand, Albus," said Perenelle. "We apologize for being careless."

"It won't happen again," Merlin vowed.

Dumbledore nodded and some of the tension left the room. "I'm truly sorry to demand this of you."

"No, you're right to do so," Merlin sighed. "It's best for everyone. Thank you for protecting us, Albus. You're a loyal friend."

Dumbledore managed a small smile then. "I would do it again, were it necessary. Now, I think it best for the two of you to return to Ravenclaw Tower. O.W.L.'s are in two weeks and fifth years _should_ be using this time to study."

The couple agreed, promptly leaving the headmaster's office. They didn't speak the whole way back to the fifth floor. Both were still slightly mortified they'd been caught and chastened. They were centuries old and yet the two of them had been completely reckless. Merlin wanted to kick himself. Why hadn't he put a ward on the door? It was usually the first thing he did before getting romantically distracted.

They reached Ravenclaw Tower.

"Merlin, this was my fault," Perenelle whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Nellie, please, don't. We're both at fault and what's done is done. We're just going to have to be cautious and a little patient from now on. I'm willing to do that if you are."

Perenelle smiled. "Of course I am. Maybe we should invest in a small apartment in Hogsmeade?"

"I can arrange it," Merlin offered.

The two shared a kiss before turning to the door and answering its riddle. With how late it was they thought the common room would be empty but two people stood up near the fireplace, making them temporarily forget their guilt. Caroline squeezed Henry's hand and nodded to him. The boy took a deep breath and strode towards Merlin with determination.

"Hey," he lamely greeted, his eyes falling to his feet once he reached him. "Um, listen…"

Merlin surprised him by pulling him into a hug. "I'm sorry," he muttered in Henry's ear.

Henry pulled away, mystified _. "You're_ sorry? Arlin, I'm the one that –"

"It's okay," Merlin smiled.

Henry swallowed, his eyes glistening as he pressed on anyway. "Arlin, you're the best mate a guy could ask for and I know you'd never boast about your talents like Weasley does. Can you forgive me?"

"I already have," Merlin assured. "So, do you need any help studying?"

Henry sheepishly grinned. "Loads," he admitted. "Do you mind…?"

"Not at all."

Perenelle and Caroline shared a relieved smile before joining the boys at the table, grateful to see that their friendship was no longer fractured.

[][][]

Merlin woke the next morning with a headache. He didn't think anything of it since he got headaches quite often (they were the only kind of illness his immortal body wasn't immune to) and yesterday had been a rather stressful one. By the evening, however, the headache had developed into a splitting migraine. He decided to skip dinner since the lights and noise around him intensified the throbbing in his skull. Perenelle came to check on him later but he was already asleep.

The following morning, he'd grown worse.

Stumbling into the bathroom, Merlin proceeded to throw up, his body trembling from the multiple convulsions of emptying the contents in his stomach. Exiting the stall, he shuffled towards the sink and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like death warmed over.

"What's happening to me?" he whispered, terrified.

He hadn't been sick like this since his Camelot days. He'd forgotten how rotten one could feel but he was certainly feeling it _now_ ; the aching of the joints, the shallowness of breath, the lack of energy. Perhaps he had the flu? But his nose wasn't running or stuffed up and he didn't have a sore throat. His head still pounded something awful though. Gracious he felt bloody awful.

The usual sounds that occupied the tower when the students were waking caught his ears and Merlin straightened. He didn't want anyone else to know that he was feeling unwell. Maybe it had to deal with stupid pride but he didn't want the cause of his sudden illness to be mistaken for falling apart due to exams. He'd just have to deal with it. When he was mortal he'd been a master of hiding his pain. He could certainly rekindle the old habit now. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and left the bathroom to get ready for the day.

"Are you alright?" Perenelle asked him once they were down to breakfast.

Merlin nodded though it split his skull to do so. "Headache's still there," he grunted.

"Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey," Caroline suggested.

Merlin shook his head. "There's really no need. I'll be able to sleep it off tonight."

"If you're sure," muttered Henry hesitantly, his concern just as deep as the girls.

"I'll be fine," Merlin said, secretly trying to reassure _himself_ just as much as them.

He ended up not eat anything that morning. His stomach still churned and he didn't want to chance throwing up again if he could help it. Forcing himself to fight through the pain and discomfort during his morning classes, Merlin ignored how difficult it became to breathe and the way his joints screamed with every movement he made. His magic also seemed crippled and sluggish, making it hard to perform spells that he could normally cast in his sleep.

The last class before lunch, Muggle Studies, Merlin said goodbye to a very concerned Perenelle who continued on her way to Ancient Runes once he wrote off her worries with "it's just a headache, sweetheart. It's nothing." He then entered the classroom and sagged down in his usual seat, waiting for Professor Burbage's lecture on electricity to begin with his head on his desk.

The class progressed slowly and as Merlin sat there he couldn't help noticing that the pain flowing throughout his body was increasing. At one point his heart clenched and he had to stuff his fist into his mouth to stop from crying out. His sharp intake of breath went unnoticed, his fellow classmates immersed in the lesson, their hands busy jotting down notes they felt would be useful. He felt like shards of icy glass were coursing through his veins, cutting him from the inside out. What was going on?

The worst wave of pain hit as Professor Burbage was explaining the way electricity worked with water in a dish washer. Feeling like he was burning from the inside out, Merlin screamed before falling off his chair, passing out as soon as he hit the floor.

[][][]

The moment he returned to consciousness Merlin wished someone would knock him out again. His whole body felt like it was on fire. He tried moving his head but gasped as throbbing pain sliced through his skull.

"Merlin? _Merlin!_ Are you awake?"

The distressed sound of Perenelle's voice was muffled in his ears but Merlin answered anyway, "M'here." The slurred words were hoarse and low, his tongue felt like it was made of lead. His throat throbbed painfully but he continued to plow on, "Wha' hapnd?"

"We were hoping you could tell us."

Merlin's vision swam but the long glint of silver was enough for him to discern that it was Dumbledore sitting next to his troubled wife.

"They said you screamed before fainting in Muggle Studies," said Perenelle. "I _knew_ that something was wrong! Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

"Din' know wha' wuz goin' on," Merlin slurred. "Still don'."

"Madam Pomfrey has never seen a sickness like this before," said Dumbledore gravely. "She's suggesting we transfer you to St. Mungo's."

Merlin shot down the suggestion at once. He avoided hospitals – _especially that one_ – for a reason. The first time he'd been 'examined' by a doctor was during the witch hunts. He'd been caught and experimented on in ways he never wanted to relive. Unfortunately he was forced to repeat certain "treatments" during the world wars, his magic unable to function properly due to the drugs scientists pumped into his system. His escapes were through the charity of others, the world war rescues mainly being Perenelle's doing, and he had no intention of allowing anyone else to poke and prod him with medical tools.

"He can't go there, Albus," Perenelle whispered fervently.

"But they might be able to discover the cause of his illness."

"No, Albus," Merlin interrupted, staring fiercely up at his friend despite the pain. "No hospitals. _Ever."_

"Merlin–"

"Please, Albus," Perenelle begged _. "Don't."_

Sensing their distress, the headmaster studied each of them through his glasses before letting out a heavy sigh. "Very well. I'll inform Poppy that your request is for her to continue to do what she can. But, Merlin, we're all very concerned. Is there anything we can do to help you?"

"Let me rest," Merlin sighed, his energy already spent.

"Of course, honey," Perenelle whispered, kissing his forehead, her hazel eyes mirroring her inner worry. "But the next time you wake up you're telling Madam Pomfrey every symptom you have."

"Yes, my lady," Merlin muttered, already half asleep.

The last thing he saw before drifting off was Dumbledore and Perenelle sharing a very concerned glance.

[][][]

Merlin had been in the hospital for four days and Madam Pomfrey was about ready to knock him out and drag him to St. Mungo's herself.

"You can't stay here, Penrys! I have no idea what's happening to you. I have tried every remedy I can think of and nothing's worked! You need to go to the hospital."

Merlin stared up at her weakly. "Please don't make me go there, Madam Pomfrey."

"Do you have something against hospitals?" she demanded.

"Yes," Merlin reluctantly admitted.

"Well, you'll have to get over it! I will not allow you to slowly kill yourself just because you don't want other people to help you."

Though it took great effort, Merlin grabbed her arm, stilling her frantic movements at attempting to straighten his sheets. "Please," he pled, "I can't go there. I can't."

The stern witch studied him a moment before the fire left her eyes, showing nothing but compassion and worry. Taking his hand, she showed a rare burst of affection and whispered, "Alright, but I can't just stand here and do nothing. If you won't go to St. Mungo's, can I at least bring someone to examine you?"

Merlin stiffened in dread. If any healer in the magical community were to scrutinize him more than Madam Pomfrey had done… he shook his head, his fear naked in his eyes as he tried to push back the nightmares of his past.

"Please, no doctors, no healers," he begged, his breathing becoming ragged.

Seeing that she had rattled her patient, Madam Pomfrey immediately backed down, calming him with soothing promises that she would keep the healers away before suggesting he should rest. Merlin did as asked, closing his eyes and focusing on anything that would keep him from reliving the memories that were threatening to haunt him.

[][][]

" _Emrys."_

Merlin's eyes shot open. Had he the energy, he would have bolted upright. Instead, he could only look around, squinting in the dark until he noticed an old man with short white hair and pale gray-blue eyes standing at the foot of his bed. His robes were white and tattered and he held a staff, the top carved like a single deer antler. Merlin couldn't speak. He could hardly breathe as the old man shuffled to his side and perched on the edge of the bed; it was clear by the old man's movements that he was in incredible pain.

" _Anhora?"_ Merlin whispered in disbelief.

Anhora smiled sadly. "Yes, Emrys. It has been many years since last we met."

"What are you – How are you _here?"_

Because Merlin truly hadn't seen this man since the day Arthur had passed his test by the sea just outside the Labyrinth of Gedref. All these years he'd thought he was the last of the Old Religion sorcerers and yet here was Anhora, sitting next to him.

"I am the Keeper of the Unicorns, Emrys," he sadly smiled. "As long as they exist, so shall I."

"Are you like me then?" Merlin desperately whispered. "Are you immortal?"

"As I said, my existence depends upon the unicorns. Yours depends on the Old Religion and the return of the Once and Future King."

Merlin frowned. "But if you've been around this whole time –"

"Why haven't I shown myself to you? Because I can only make myself known when a unicorn is in peril or killed."

Merlin stilled. "Someone has killed a unicorn?"

Anhora's face was riddled with pain as his shoulders slumped. "Not just one, Emrys."

Merlin's eyes widened in disbelief, his mind taken back to the horrible curse that had inflicted all of Camelot because of Arthur's mistake in killing just one of these creatures.

"Who would be foolish enough to kill multiple unicorns?" he asked, horrified by the complications that could come from such a sin.

"Someone who is desperate for power and yet does not understand the balance of the Old ways."

There was only one person Merlin could think of in this day and age that fit that description.

"Voldemort," he cursed. "Wait, the balance… Are you saying that's why I feel this way?"

Anhora nodded. "I too have grown rather weak but not as much as you, Emrys. Like I said, my existence is tied to the unicorns themselves. Yours is tied to the Old Religion. Besides you, your dragon, and the phoenixes, unicorns are its last true creatures. You have grown weak because the slaughter has caused a great imbalance to the Old ways. In a way, your magic – which is a branch of the Old Religion – is being attacked. I am afraid that until the killings cease, you will continue to feel as you do now."

"Then we have to stop them!" Merlin cried, trying to sit up. It was a bad idea because his entire body screamed in protest. Hissing in pain, he fell back into his pillows.

"You are in no condition to do anything, I'm afraid," Anhora stated.

"Then how do you propose we put an end to this?" Merlin grumbled, understandably frustrated.

"Speak with you friend, the headmaster of this school," Anhora counseled. "Together you may find a way to cease Voldemort's actions."

The old man stood.

"Hang on," Merlin cried, reaching out and grabbing his cloak. "The school isn't going to be cursed for what Voldemort's doing, is it?"

"No," Anhora assured. "He and his accomplice are the only ones who will suffer. They will live a half-life, a cursed life. Their doom is on their own hands."

Merlin frowned. "Then why did you curse the people of Camelot instead of just Arthur?"

"Because the greatest anguish Arthur could endure was not of himself but of watching his people suffer."

Merlin stared. Not a truer statement could have been uttered. It made sense, then, for Voldemort and Quirrell (who were both selfish men) to suffer themselves. He was still contemplating the differences between Arthur's blunder and Voldemort's (one done in ignorance and the other in selfishness) when he noticed Anhora's cloak was slipping through his fingers.

"Wait!" he cried. "You're leaving?"

Now that he knew he still existed, Merlin was loath to let Anhora go. He was like him, bound to serve the purposes of the Old Religion until his work was done. He'd known Arthur personally, had walked within Camelot's walls, and thrived in its forests. He was a link Merlin never thought he'd reconnect with. To have a part of his past here, now, it was comparable to a drowning man finding a lifeboat in a raging sea. True, he had Aithusa, but Anhora was human; at least, as human as one could get when warped by the Old Religion to do its bidding.

The Keeper of the Unicorns took Merlin's hand and gently smiled.

"I know you have suffered, Emrys – I can see it in your eyes – but immortality has taught you many things which will give light and guidance to you and your King once he returns."

"But when will he come back?" Merlin desperately asked.

"Soon, Emrys," Anhora whispered. "Soon."

And then, just like that, he was gone.

Merlin's hand fell by his side.

So Voldemort was the reason he was ill. He supposed this hadn't happened to him before because no one else would be dumb enough to mass slaughter unicorns. He needed to talk to Dumbledore. Glancing at the closed door of Madam Pomfrey's office, Merlin took a deep breath and used his magic to write a message to the headmaster. It took a lot of concentration and energy, leaving him winded and rather drained by the end, but Merlin knew his message would get through. Settling back into his pillow, he only had to wait ten minutes before Dumbledore came striding into the Hospital Wing wearing a dressing gown and a night cap, his blue eyes filled with worry.

"I'm alright," Merlin muttered as he approached, "I've just learned something you need to know."

He then recounted everything that Anhora had revealed, also giving a very brief retelling of Arthur's discrepancy in the past to explain how he knew the old man in the first place.

Dumbledore was just as appalled as Merlin over the news. "To intentionally slay something so pure," he lamented, shaking his head.

"And I don't think they're doing it just for sport," Merlin gravely muttered. "Unicorn blood has the power to keep someone alive but at a terrible price. I believe Voldemort is making Quirrell drink it as a temporary fix until he can get his hands on the Stone. Not that he's going to, of course."

"And until we stop them from killing the unicorns, you'll remain here incapacitated."

"More or less," Merlin groused.

Dumbledore rose to his feet. "It would seem that it is my turn to help you this time, Merlin. You took care of Hagrid's dragon. Let me solve the unicorn issue."

Merlin's brow furrowed. "You have a plan?"

"Nothing concrete but I'm sure I can solidify my thoughts while pacing and sucking on a lemon drop in my office," he mused with a smile. "Pacing works wonders, I'll have you know."

Merlin let out a weak laugh before frowning once more. "Can I be of any assistance?"

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore said gently. "You need to rest. You may be immortal but I dare say it's a safe assumption that you are going to need to heal after the problem is dealt with. I fear you might miss your O.W.L.'s."

"Oh, how horrid that would be," Merlin replied, pretending to be distraught over the possibility.

"Don't worry, I'm sure we can arrange for you to make them up if you are incapable of participating with your fellow fifth year students."

Merlin grimaced. "Albus, you really know how to kick a sick man when he's already down."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and patted him on the shoulder. "Rest and trust that I'll take care of this, Merlin. I don't want you giving Poppy an ulcer."

"I think she's going to give me one first but I'll do as you ask," he sighed. "Keep me informed, Albus."

"I will."

Shortly after the headmaster left, Merlin looked out the nearest window at the sea of stars twinkling in the black heavens. "I hate not being able to do anything," he grumbled. Feeling useless, he turned on his side and fell back asleep.

* * *

 **Okay everyone, it looks like the next chapter might be the last for this story. I haven't received as much feedback as I thought I would for it but I was wondering, if I did a sequel, would anyone care to read it? It would be rather different from this one because instead of having Merlin work in the background I would have him get involved in Harry's life... as a _teacher._ That's right folks, if ya'll want a sequel, Merlin's going to be a teacher and I may or may not have a certain golden haired Prat play a larger role besides popping up every once in a while. ;) Let me know what you guys want and how you felt about the chapter in a review. Thanks for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter**

* * *

Chapter 12

For the Future of Albion

* * *

Four days after his talk with Dumbledore, Merlin felt himself begin to recover. Madam Pomfrey was more than relieved to see the small improvements and, after a couple days persuasion, she allowed him visitors.

"Everyone thinks you died or something," Henry said dramatically the second he was allowed into the Hospital Wing.

"Seriously?"

"Those are only the wilder rumors," said Caroline as she gave Merlin a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad to know they're not true."

"Don't go kissing the invalid, Caroline!" Henry gasped. "You might get infected."

"Oh please, it's not contagious." Perenelle rolled her eyes though she was grinning.

Merlin was glad to see her. After that first night she was treated like every other student, Madam Pomfrey denying her entrance but being kind enough to at least report his condition every time she stopped by. Merlin wanted nothing more than to leap out of bed and wrap his arms around her but he was still too weak to move so he settled for holding her hand.

"So, what's the verdict on your O.W.L.s?" Henry asked.

"Dumbledore says that if I'm not well enough to take them with you guys then I'll have to make them up," Merlin answered, annoyed.

"Don't be so upset, Arlin, that will give you more time to study," said Caroline.

"Like he needs it," Henry snorted but it was said in humor not offense.

Merlin smiled. His friends and wife stayed for about an hour before leaving to go study some more. O.W.L.s were to take place in less than a week and the fifth years were taking advantage of every spare moment to cram their heads with knowledge.

In the afternoon Dumbledore dropped by and the two had a quiet conversation (which Merlin muffled) about how the headmaster felt he'd successfully stopped the unicorns from dying.

"You influenced Professor McGonagall to give four first year students a detention of accompanying Hagrid into the Forbidden Forest in the dead of night?"

Dumbledore wasn't at all intimidated by Merlin's displeasure as he replied, "They were perfectly safe with Hagrid and I knew that if there were witnesses of Quirrell's actions that it would stop Voldemort from pursuing his new hobby. The event would have been brought to my attention and the last thing he wants is me personally sniffing around in his business. He won't be attacking unicorns again."

Since he was feeling better Merlin begrudgingly agreed with Dumbledore on that front.

"I still think it was reckless of you to send _Harry_ of all people into the woods when we knew Voldemort was out there!"

"It was a gamble I was willing to make," Dumbledore gravely sighed. "I had all faith that Hagrid wouldn't let anything happen to him and, as you can see, the boy is perfectly safe."

"For now, at least," Merlin muttered. "If Voldemort no longer feels it's safe to get unicorn blood to sustain him, you know what he's going to try next."

"Isn't that what we've been hoping for?"

"Yes," Merlin answered, "but I'm not up to strength yet and you might need my help to detain him when he does go after the Stone."

"Then I suggest you rest as much as possible," Dumbledore smiled. "You don't have to stress about your O.W.L.s anymore, seeing as, at this rate, I believe you will not be recovered in time to take them."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I was never stressed about them to begin with, Albus."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I'm well aware, my friend."

[][][]

A week later Merlin had an unexpected visitor.

"Newt!" he cried in delight, clasping his old friend's hand. "What are you doing here?"

"Nellie sent me an owl. She was worried about you." The Magizoologist said while studying the warlock with a concerned eye. "What happened?"

Merlin glanced at Madam Pomfrey who was hovering nearby, a disgruntled expression on her face; she still didn't approve of people disturbing her patient – especially in the evening hours.

"I'm not entirely sure," he lied, his eyes straying to the window.

The sun was already low in its descent, the sky a deep bluish hue; the beginnings of a perfect summer night. He may not feel completely one hundred percent but the warlock was beginning to feel sorely confined. For days he'd tried to convince Madam Pomfrey to let him leave but she refused, ending the conversation by threatening to force a sleeping draught down his throat. He wanted to confide in Newt but he couldn't do it here. Perhaps… perhaps the nurse would allow him temporary leave?

"Madam Pomfrey?"

The nurse bustled over at once. "What is it, Arlin? Are you in pain? Do you need to be left alone?" She glared disapprovingly at Newt.

"No, no, I'm fine," Merlin assured, amused by the way Newt took a cautious step back. "I just wondered… would it be okay if I left for a while?"

"Absolutely not!"

"But –"

"You're not fully recovered and there's every chance you might collapse again due to straining yourself."

"Please, Madam Pomfrey," Merlin begged, trying his best to show just how miserable he felt," I haven't left this place in two weeks. I'm growing restless. Can't I just go on a walk with Mr. Scamander? – To stretch my legs a bit? I won't do anything strenuous, I promise!"

"I'll make sure he doesn't," Newt put in helpfully, "and I'll bring him back the second I believe he's ill."

"He already is," Madam Pomfrey countered.

"Too ill to go for a _little_ walk around the castle?" Merlin gently pushed.

The nurse pursed her lips, a silent war waging in her brain. Merlin held his breath. He'd give anything to get out of this place.

Madam Pomfrey finally relented. "Under no circumstance are you to use magic and you are to be back here no later than nine o'clock! You may no longer look like death warmed over but you are not fully recovered and still need an adequate amount of rest."

Merlin's grin was wide as he flung his covers aside and stood. "Thanks, Madam Pomfrey. I'll be back then, I promise."

"If not I'll bind you to that bed and keep you comatose until the summer holidays," she threatened, her voice deathly serious. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Merlin replied. "Come on, Newt."

"Remember what I said, Arlin!" Madam Pomfrey called as the two men left the Hospital Wing.

Merlin couldn't believe his luck. He had a whole hour to spend wandering around with Newt and he knew exactly where he wanted to go. He may have been told not to use magic – a definite irritant, to be sure – but Madam Pomfrey hadn't restricted him to the castle. Grinning, he led Newt to the nearest exit and out into the beginnings of a twilit world.

Newt chuckled. "Why am I not surprised that the second you were released you ran outdoors?"

"I've been confined behind stone walls for too long," Merlin stated, "and I didn't want to talk with Madam Pomfrey around. Come on; there's something I need to do."

"Where are we going?" Newt asked as they headed towards the greenhouses.

"The forest."

"I don't think going in there constitutes as 'a simple walk around the castle,'" Newt teased.

"I have enough strength to go wandering through the woods, Newt. Besides, I need to check on the unicorns."

"The unicorns?"

Merlin spent the rest of their walk from the grassy slope to the forest's edge explaining what had happened to him. As always, Newt was a good listener. He was understandably outraged that anyone would have the audacity to kill a unicorn and the words he used to describe Quirrell left Merlin temporarily speechless; he'd never heard his old friend use such language before.

Before entering the woods Newt lit his wand and Merlin conjured a ball of light; even though he'd been told not to use magic, he wasn't about to go walking blindly through the forest. Besides, the spell took little to no energy at all to make.

After venturing about a hundred feet in the evergreen atmosphere, the sound of hooves caught their attention and both men grew still. A moment later the area exploded with the presence of at least a dozen centaurs, each armed with bows and arrows aimed at the wizards' chests.

"Emrys!" one cried in surprise, slightly lowering his bow. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to check on the unicorns," Merlin answered, noticing the mistrustful looks the others were sending Newt. "This is my colleague, Newt Scamander. A greater friend to magical creatures you will never meet."

"A high recommendation," a bay centaur commented, "for a wizard."

"But is it to be believed, Cicilius?" the first to recognize Merlin asked.

"Since it came from Emrys himself, I believe it should be, Bane," Cicilius answered before turning back to Merlin. "Forgive us. Though evil no longer plagues this forest, we are rather wary."

"When did the attacks stop?"

"About a week ago," Bane answered, "Though the unicorns are still frightened and have retreated further into the wood. We centaurs have taken up the task to patrol the area and intend to kill anything or anyone that does not belong here. We cannot allow the balance to continue to be violated."

"I agree," Merlin stated, "And I should hope you don't see me as a threat."

"We do not," Cicilius reassured, "but your friend… you know how we feel about wizards, Emrys."

"I have already stated that Newt has my confidence. If you trust me then put trust in my word."

The centaurs did not look happy but silently consented.

Bane, the apparent leader of the group, suddenly looked up into the sky and muttered, "Mars is particularly bright tonight. Take care, Emrys. We will allow your friend's presence but only because he is with you."

"Thanks," Merlin said, trying hard not to let annoyance drip into his tone.

The centaurs then took their leave, continuing their patrol towards the west.

"They were cheerful," Newt chuckled, undisturbed by their prejudice towards him.

"As cheerful as centaurs can be," Merlin grumbled, pushing aside a low hanging branch. "Come on; even though they said Voldemort is gone, I want Aithusa to confirm it."

They reached the clearing they'd visited during Christmas time and Merlin sent out the call. They waited for a quarter of an hour before the mother dragon arrived, her large white scales glittering in their enchanted light.

"Merlin – and Newt! – what a delightful surprise," she greeted after sharing her customary bow with her dragonlord.

Merlin got right to the point. "Do you think the attacks have stopped?"

A low growl escaped the back of the dragon's throat. "They have, Merlin. Though I have been dwelling in the nearby mountains, I have felt the calamity of the forest. It has calmed significantly these past eight days and no further deaths have upset the Old Religion. I am sure you have felt the effects?"

"I have," Merlin nodded. "I no longer feel like I'm dying but my magic –"

"Is still weak," Aithusa finished, nodding her great head. "The death of so many unicorns in so short a time has disrupted us all who belong to the Old ways. It will take a while for the balance to restore itself. If possible it would be wise to continue healing, warlock, and refrain from heavily exercising your magic at present."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," Merlin sighed. "Do you think Voldemort will come back here?"

Aithusa shook her head. "His sights have moved on." –A pause – "Merlin, the Stone, do you have it?"

Merlin removed the small pouch from around his neck and pulled out the Sorcerer's Stone, holding it out to her.

"You must not allow Voldemort to possess it!"

"He never will," the warlock assured, confused by the abrupt change of subject and her sudden ferocity.

"Merlin."

The way in which she said his name caused every muscle in the warlock's body to seize. Rarely had Aithusa spoken to him with such a tone and usually it was because whatever she was about to convey was meant to be obeyed.

"You must be willing to sacrifice everything, if necessary, to protect it. Voldemort cannot gain the Stone. It would be the end of the future of Albion if he did."

A bolt of fear tore through Merlin's heart like lightning. "What do you mean by that?"

"Heed my words, warlock," she said, stretching her wings, "You must do whatever is necessary. And heed the centaur's warning."

"Now, hang on!" Merlin cried since she'd taken to the air. "Aithusa? Now is not the time to get all cryptic like Kilgharrah! Aithusa!"

But the dragon was gone, her wing beats already sounding like they were a mile away.

"What warning?" he uselessly continued to shout. "They didn't say anything!" Turning to Newt he grumbled further, "Do you have any idea what she was talking about?"

Newt shook his head, his ancient face pulled in a disturbed frown. "I don't, Merlin, but I don't like it."

"Neither do I."

The warlock began to pace.

"What did she mean?" he muttered, mulling over her words.

How he hated the perplexity of dragons! Why was it whenever something threatening was about to occur, they felt the need to speak in unholy riddles? The centaur's warning; _what_ warning? And what was this about Albion's future being threatened?

For some reason he felt the latter had to deal with Arthur. If Albion's future was in peril, so was Arthur's because Arthur was its Future King. But Arthur had yet to return. Wait, was Aithusa hinting that if Voldemort got the Stone then Arthur might not come back? No, that didn't make any sense. Maybe, maybe Arthur's life and his purpose as the Future King would be threatened directly by Voldemort having immortality? That seemed more logical.

But there was no way Merlin was going to allow _that_ to happen! Anyone who dared pose a threat to his king would find themselves wishing they'd never been born – especially once the Prat finally decided to come back; Merlin would die before losing him again.

Feeling there wasn't further need to fear about that matter, Merlin moved on to recalling everything the centaurs had said.

They'd talked about the unicorns, planned to cut down any threat that set foot in their forest, and practically stated they would have killed Newt if he hadn't been with him.

"What am I missing?"

"Pertaining to what?" Newt prompted, desirous to help.

"The centaurs," Merlin elaborated. "From everything they said, what might be interpreted as a warning?"

"Bane did tell you to take care," Newt pointed out. "And he said something about Mars before that."

Merlin froze, his eyes widening.

"Merlin?"

The warlock looked up and searched the sky until he found the red planet burning hundreds of miles away. It shone with brilliance. Mars was the Greek God of War.

 _War_.

Everything clicked into place and Merlin suddenly swore.

"We need to get back to the castle _right now!"_ he cried, shoving the Sorcerer's Stone into the pocket of his robes before sprinting back toward the trees.

"Merlin?" Newt cried as he followed the warlock and his retreating light, "Wait up!"

How could he have been so stupid? Aithusa and Bane had basically told him the same thing. Mars being _particularly_ bright tonight – Voldemort no longer trying to live off unicorn blood – his sights returning to his original goal – he was going after the Stone _tonight!_

Newt huffed and puffed somewhere behind him, remarkably keeping up despite his old age. By the time they left the forest the stars were fully visible in the night sky and the grounds were paved with moonlight. Merlin looked down at his watch. Eleven o'clock?! How had it gotten so late? Madam Pomfrey was going to kill him; not that he had any intention of going back to the Hospital Wing.

Newt suddenly grabbed his arm, halting his pace.

"Merlin," he wheezed, " _what_ – is going – on?"

He grabbed Newt's shoulders. "Newt, listen to me. Voldemort is making his move tonight."

" _What?!"_

"He's going after the Stone!"

"But the Stone's right here!"

"We made a fake. We were going to ambush him. Look, I need you to get Albus. Have him go to the third floor. We might already be too late but I'm going to try to get to the Stone's chamber first. Tell Albus to get there as soon as he can."

And without another word, he continued his sprint towards the castle, leaving Newt in the dark.

It took him ten minutes to make it up the sloped lawn. Taking the steps two at a time, he slammed his shoulder into one of the doors, forcing it open with a loud bang. Ignoring the noise, he pushed his legs to go faster, climbing the marble staircase and running down the corridor towards the entrance of the next floor. He reached the third floor corridor fifteen minutes later, severely out of breath with a stitch in his side. The door containing Fluffy was wide open, the large three headed dog barking like mad. Merlin entered the room and commanded the beast to be still in the old tongue.

The trap door was open.

Cursing, Merlin plunged into the darkness without a second thought. Landing on the Devil's Snare, he shouted, " _ **Forbearnan!"**_

Fire erupted all around him and the warlock scrambled away from the blaze. The dangerous plant squirmed and slithered towards the shadows, desperate to get away from the light. Merlin extinguished the flame and gasped, pain erupting somewhere near his navel. It lasted several seconds before dimming to a dull throb. He'd temporarily forgotten his magic was still recovering.

Cursing again, the warlock carded his fingers through his hair. What was he to do? He didn't have time to wait for Dumbledore to help him break through all the protection spells. There was every chance that Voldemort was already in the Stone's chamber. Once he discovered the Stone was a fake he'd be gone before either Merlin or Dumbledore could confront him.

There was only one thing to do.

Sighing wearily, Merlin muttered to himself, "Well, I've had to do hard things before."

He was just about to transport when someone cried his name.

"Merlin!"

Dumbledore had arrived, landing on the Devil's Snare and conjuring fire the same as Merlin had but with a wave of his wand.

"Albus?! I didn't think Newt would get to you in time."

"Newt? I'm afraid we must have missed each other. Quickly, Merlin, Voldemort –"

Not even bothering to question how on earth Dumbledore knew what was happening, the warlock grabbed the headmaster's arm.

"We might miss him if we waste time trying to fight our way through the enchantments. I'll transport us there."

"But, Merlin, your magic –"

"I'll be fine."

The warlock secured his grip on Dumbledore's arm and transported directly into the Stone's chamber. What neither man was prepared for were the screams that assaulted their ears the moment they appeared.

"KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" someone was shouting over the agonized shrieks of Quirinus Quirrell who was flailing about, trying desperately to remove a young boy from his blistering arm.

"Harry!" Dumbledore cried, racing forward to pry the youth away from the treacherous professor. "Harry!"

Merlin moved to join him but tripped over a tangle of purple material; the remains of Quirrell's turban. Wincing, he looked up from his place on the floor. A small amount of rope lay forgotten to the side while the Mirror of Erised, the only other object in the room, stood tall, a silent witness to the scene taking place.

Professor Quirrell lay on the ground, his body smoldering as if it had just been removed from a boiling furnace, his skin blistered, cracked, and bleeding. Dumbledore was leaning over an unconscious Harry Potter, waving his wand and muttering under his breath. Merlin, therefore, was the only one who saw the smoky figure of Voldemort rising from Quirrell's ruined body. His red eyes quickly observed the headmaster and child before filling with hatred. The unfinished form started to rush towards Dumbledore's unsuspecting back and Merlin reacted without thinking. Leaping to his feet, he thrust himself in front of his distracted friend and Voldemort's 'body' slammed into him. Merlin gasped, falling forward onto his hands and knees.

His vision temporarily vanished, blackness replacing sight. He tried to move his limbs but they refused to obey his command. Unable to move an inch, Merlin found himself trapped within some kind of mental cage. A sinister voice suddenly whispered in the shadows like the hiss of a snake.

" _You have power… more than I first supposed… Who are you?"_

Even though he refused to answer Merlin felt a dark force prying through his mind and immediately he constructed a wall. He tried desperately to fight but Voldemort's Legilimency was powerful and his magic was still not up to par. A moment passed and the warlock let out a gasp of pain. His metal wall broke, memories of his past filtered through against his will for Voldemort to see.

"No," Merlin mourned, flashes of his life parading unbidden before his eyes like a film in fast forward.

Camelot, Arthur, Gwen, the Knights, Gaius, Morgana… each one whispering his name, the ghost of their voices betraying his identity to the evil possessing him.

" _What is this?"_ Voldemort hissed in surprise. _"Can you possibly be…?"_

The memories continued.

Arthur's death, Camelot's fall, the passage of time and his damnation of immortality, Perenelle, the creation of the Stone, his masquerading as a student, the Stone's current location within his pocket…

" _NO!"_ Merlin cried, forcing the memories closed and pushing Voldemort into the mental cage he'd previously been in.

His magic surged painfully from the strain but he'd finally regained control, his vision returning quick and fast. His heart hammered within his chest, his limbs violently shaking as if they were made of jello against the stone flooring. As he attempted to gulp down air, Merlin felt the presence of evil clawing at his mind. Already Voldemort was fighting for dominance.

"Merlin!"

Dumbledore was kneeling next to him, his blue eyes filled with nothing but concern and worry.

"He's inside me," Merlin gasped.

"What?"

"I'm keeping him at bay but" – he paused, wincing as once again the evil magic pulsed painfully against his own – "my magic is still weak. I don't know if I can hold him off for much longer."

"Can't you force him out?"

"He might try to possess you or Harry if I do. I can't allow that to happen."

"Then what are we going to do?"

Merlin grit his teeth, combating another unseen attack. This was worse than the time he fought Cornelius Sigan. Never in his life would he have thought a modern wizard could have such powerful magic – and Voldemort wasn't even at full strength! To be fair, however, neither was he. Both men were weak and desperate for control but Merlin knew he couldn't give in.

"Merlin?" Dumbledore cried worriedly.

Merlin glanced up and something behind the headmaster caught his eye, his control nearly slipping due to surprise.

The Mirror of Erised was no longer empty but containing the image of the Once and Future King.

Arthur, however, did not look dignified. His brow was furrowed in frustration, his fists slamming into the mirror's surface as if attempting to break it. His mouth was frantically moving, shouting something Merlin couldn't hear.

"Arthur," he breathed, pushing Dumbledore aside.

"What?" the headmaster cried, spinning around to face the mirror.

The king halted his actions, a look of relief on his face. Merlin's eyes widened.

"Arthur?" he questioned again, stumbling to his feet.

Arthur's mouth moved but no sound escaped the mirror.

"You can hear me?" Merlin gasped. "You're really there?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and snapped something, his hands moving frantically.

Despite the pain and the constant evil surging within him from a raging sorcerer, Merlin's whole being lit up with happiness. Arthur was there. He wasn't an image. He was really, truly there!

"How is this possible?" Dumbledore asked in disbelief.

Merlin shook his head. "I'm not sure. Arthur, listen, I can't hear you but somehow you can hear me. Don't give me that look clotpole, I don't know why."

Arthur scowled and pounded on the glass. Merlin lifted a shaky palm and rested his hand against the surface. It remained solid on his end. Perplexed, he felt strange magic at work and in that moment instruction filled his mind: _Thrust the Stone through the mirror. The King must destroy it or all is lost._

Merlin blanched. That voice. He hadn't heard it in centuries.

" _F-Freya?"_ he whispered.

The instruction came again, this time with greater urgency. _Thrust the Stone through the mirror, Merlin! The King must destroy it or all is lost!_

Merlin pulled the Sorcerer's Stone from his pocket as the message finally sank in. He shook his head. Freya couldn't be asking this of him. The Old Religion couldn't be asking this of him. It was too much.

" _You must be willing to sacrifice everything, if necessary, to protect it. Voldemort cannot gain the Stone. It would be the end of the future of Albion if he did."_

Merlin gasped, Freya repeating the words of Aithusa in his mind. The dragon had known this was going to happen. She knew that an ultimate sacrifice would have to be made.

"Merlin?" Dumbledore prompted.

Just then the worst attack yet slammed into his magical barrier and Merlin cried out, grabbing his head. Arthur slammed his fist into the mirror's surface again while Dumbledore latched onto the warlock's shoulders. A temporary flash of red coated the warlock's eyes before disappearing within the blue.

"I'm alright," Merlin whispered, gently pushing Dumbledore's hand away along with his hesitation. Facing the mirror he looked into the concerned eyes of his king. "You'd better be coming back soon because I'm tired of waiting for you. Never mind about that now, though; you need to listen to me. I'm about to give you a powerful magical object –" Arthur reeled backward and Merlin scowled impatiently. "There's no need to freak out, Arthur, it won't hurt you! You just need to destroy it. If you don't the evil wizard currently trying to possess me will get hold of it and the world will be in grave danger."

Arthur looked at him skeptically, his arms folding over his chainmail.

Angered by his reaction Merlin snapped, "For once in your life will you just accept that I know what I'm talking about?!"

Arthur threw up his hands in surrender, his eyes apologetic as his lips moved.

"Use Excalibur," Merlin instructed, seeing the sword resting at his king's hip. "It's a magical blade – yes, magical! – don't look at me like that, it was made specifically for you to help you build Albion. The point is, it has the power to do what needs to be done."

Arthur opened his mouth to argue but Merlin slammed his fist against the glass, gritting his teeth in pain as another one of Voldemort's attacks slammed against the mental cage.

"Just do this for me," Merlin begged, tears beginning to form in his eyes. _"Please."_

Arthur studied him a moment before nodding. Stepping backward he drew his sword and got into a readied stance. Merlin looked down at the Stone. This was it. Without it _…_

 _Perenelle, forgive me_.

Biting his lip, Merlin shoved the precious object against the mirror, tears streaming down his face. The Stone slipped effortlessly through the surface, permitted to cross over the barrier by the Old Religion. Merlin watched as Arthur rushed forward, thrusting the tip of Excalibur through the Stone's red exterior the second it hit the floor. The Stone shattered into a million pieces – just like Merlin's heart.

A scream of anger erupted within his mind and Merlin was thrown backward. The image of Arthur in the mirror vanished right before the warlock slammed into the ground. His vision began to darken again but this time it was due to unconsciousness. The shady form of Voldemort hovered a moment over him before flying away.

" _Merlin!"_

Dumbledore was shaking his shoulders. The old warlock wished he wouldn't. He wanted nothing more than to sleep.

"Voldemort?"

"Fled."

"Good," he whispered.

They'd won this round. With that knowledge the warlock passed out.

[][][]

Someone was placing something cool on his forehead. Flinching, Merlin blearily opened his eyes.

"Merlin! Oh, thank the Triple Goddess!"

He was looking up at the face of an angel. Perenelle's cheeks were streaked with tears, her eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying. Her long hair trailed about her fifteen year old face, briefly tickling his when she leaned in to kiss him.

"I was so afraid," she confessed. "You've been unconscious for over a week."

"W-What?" Merlin croaked.

Perenelle took his hand. "Everyone knows what happened between Harry Potter and Quirrell but – through some miracle – nobody found out you were involved. Although…" she paused.

"Nellie?" Merlin prompted, staring worriedly at his wife.

"Well… Albus might have had to tell Madam Pomfrey who you are," she muttered.

"What?!"

"Not that you're Merlin!" she quickly explained in a hushed voice, "But that you're Nicolas Flamel. She was downright terrifying, you see, and threatened to contact your parents. After that the whole thing kind of slipped out. It was easier than trying to invent some story about you being an orphan and what not. She's the only one who knows the truth about us and where you actually were that night. She's been a godsend, actually, assuring all the teachers and students that you merely collapsed during a walk around the grounds with Mr. Scamander – an old family friend of yours – on the same night that Harry happened to face Quirrell. Everyone pretty much believed it, seeing as it was common knowledge among the Ravenclaws that you'd been recovering for two weeks due to some unknown illness before then. Having Newt as an alibi helped as well."

Merlin sat back, reeling in all the information. Wait, if it had been a week…

"School's over," he muttered.

Perenelle nodded. "Madam Pomfrey said we can stay here as long as needed for you to recover."

"That's generous," Merlin sighed, closing his eyes.

How was it possible that after so much sleep he still felt utterly exhausted?

"Merlin?"

"Hmmm?" He opened his eyes to see Perenelle squirming in her chair. "Nellie? What is it?"

"Albus told me what happened. Oh, Merlin, I just can't believe it. You were possessed by Voldemort and you saw Arthur and you had to destroy the Stone…"

The implication hit him like a ton of bricks and tears clouded his vision.

"Merlin? Are you okay?"

A watery chuckle of disbelief escaped him. "How on earth can I be okay, Perenelle?" he weakly cried. "The Stone…"

His wife took his hand in hers and kissed his knuckles. "Merlin, I'm not upset about it."

"What? How can you not be? Without it…"

He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. It was too painful to admit. His heart was already broken, shattered the moment his best friend destroyed the one thing keeping his wife alive.

"Why does my life have to be filled with such cruelty?" he lamented. "Have I not suffered enough?"

"Oh, Merlin," Perenelle whispered, scooting onto the bed and holding him as he cried.

"I don't want to lose you," he sobbed. "I-I don't think I can survive without you."

Perenelle kissed his forehead. "Merlin, we've lived a long and happy life, haven't we?"

"Yes."

"We've created countless memories, right?"

"Countless," he agreed.

"I love you so much," she said, her breath hitching, "and therefore I hope and pray that you will promise me this one thing."

"What?"

"Promise me, that when I'm gone –"

"No, Perenelle," he interrupted. _"No!_ We'll find a way – I'll make a new Stone – I'll –"

She silenced him by placing a finger delicately to his lips and shook her head. "You can't create another Stone, Merlin. You can't give Voldemort that kind of opportunity again. Listen, I've spoken with Aithusa–"

Mention of the dragon's name sent ripples of anger through Merlin's soul.

"She knew," he interrupted. "She _knew_ this was going to happen! She knew that the Stone was going to be destroyed – that you were going to have to… to…"

Perenelle swallowed painfully. "Yes, Merlin, she knew. What happened between you and Voldemort in that chamber was the beginning of the future you've been waiting for."

Merlin's breath hitched. "You mean… Arthur…?"

"His time is coming," Perenelle sadly smiled, "and mine is ending."

Merlin shook his head. "Why? Why can't I have you both?"

"Merlin, I should have died centuries ago. Your magic has kept me alive but now it is meant to be returned to Arthur. He will need you to help him adjust to this strange world. Your time must be devoted solely to him. Besides, this is not really the end, my love. I will wait for you in Avalon."

"I'm cursed to never die, Nellie," he bitterly pointed out. "You'll be waiting for eternity."

"If that's what it takes," she answered, kissing him. "My heart is yours."

"As mine is yours."

His beautiful wife smiled and shook her head. "Not completely."

Merlin flinched and looked away, angry with himself that he couldn't argue with her. Perenelle chuckled before kissing his forehead.

"I'm sure it is the same for Arthur and Guinevere. You and the king are two sides of the same coin after all, two halves that make a whole. Guinevere and I love you both but we know that our love will never be enough on its own. You need each other."

"It isn't fair."

"Life is never fair, Merlin, but it is we who choose how to go about living it. Now, promise me, when I go, you will not live the rest of your life in bitterness and sorrow. Take time to grieve but do not wither away. I need to know that you'll smile again and continue to be the Merlin that I love."

"Nellie… how can I promise that? How can I find joy when I know you will no longer be there?"

"Because I'll be in here," she said, pointing at his heart, "along with everyone else that you have lost. You didn't wither away when they left this life. I know you won't allow that to happen now."

"I didn't live over six hundred years with any of them either," he pointed out.

She laughed sadly. "No, but I personally think it all comes down to choice. People never know how much time they have with those they love. Some relationships last for days, others a lifetime. How we decide to accept the loss will determine entirely on how the rest of our lives play out. You can become bitter and resentful, a shell of the man I love, or you can allow yourself to grieve for a time and then focus on the happiness we shared and the memories we made. Promise me that you will live in such a way that will guarantee that when we see each other again – _for we will –_ you'll greet me with a triumphant smile."

Merlin let out a sniffle before latching onto her. "I p-promise," he whispered brokenly. "I promise."

Perenelle kissed him then. "I know you'll succeed, Merlin, because I know you'll never give up. I love you so much."

"I love you too," he cried.

They spent the rest of the afternoon making plans. Perenelle had enough Elixir to live until the end of the year and Merlin was determined to make it the best of her life. They wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts. Instead they would travel the world and do whatever the heck they wanted to do with the time they had left.

Dumbledore came by to visit in the evening, burning with questions over what had happened down in the Stone's chamber.

"I'm not entirely sure," Merlin confessed. "All I can tell you is that a message came via the Lady of the Lake to destroy the Stone to protect the future of Albion. Arthur's sword, Excalibur, has the power to slay anything immortal and was buried with him. The Stone had to be destroyed then and there or else Voldemort would have gained possession of it. My theory is the Old Religion provided a way for Arthur to be there to do the job."

"And he vanished from the mirror right after you fell," Dumbledore confirmed. "Voldemort fled as well though I don't understand why he didn't try something else."

Merlin bit his lip. The evil wizard's retreat was rather worrying.

"Especially since he now knows who I really am," he muttered with a furrowed brow.

"What?" Perenelle cried. "How?"

"He broke into my memories. I didn't really possess the strength to stop him at the time. I shouldn't have used that transport spell; it severely drained my magic. I was honestly running on fumes through the whole ordeal."

"That was very foolish thing to do, Merlin," Dumbledore admonished.

"If I hadn't done it Harry would have died," the warlock argued. "How is the boy anyway?"

Dumbledore sighed but gave in to the abrupt change of subject. "He's fine. He had a few questions and apparently figured out that the Stone belonged to you. I told him it had been destroyed and that you and Perenelle were fine with the idea of dying."

"Except it won't be both of us," Merlin said bitterly.

Perenelle rested her hand over his. "But we _are_ both okay with it."

Merlin sighed. "Yes," he reluctantly admitted, "we are."

Dumbledore still looked crestfallen. "Is there really nothing that can be done?"

Perenelle and Merlin shook their heads.

"Whether I like it or not, this is the way things are meant to be, Albus," Merlin answered. "Destiny is weaving its threads once more and I learned long ago not to disrupt its creation. Perenelle will have to go to Avalon."

"And wait until Merlin's time comes," she faithfully and bravely stated, firmly holding her husband's hand. "In the meantime, he'll have his hands full with Arthur."

"He is soon to return then?" Dumbledore wondered, eyes wide.

"Nellie thinks so," said Merlin. "I've been waiting for centuries. I'm not about to hold my breath and think he'll show up the second she's gone. I honestly hope he doesn't. I don't think I'll be able to handle everything emotionally all at once."

Perenelle squeezed his hand and smiled at him sadly. "Everything will work out the way it is meant to."

"Indeed it will," he reluctantly agreed. "It always does."

Dumbledore suddenly rested a comforting hand on his forearm. "I will be here to support you, old friend, should you ever need a shoulder to lean on."

Merlin's eyes glistened with gratitude. "Thank you, Albus."

The old warlock didn't know what the near future would hold. So much had happened. He'd seen Arthur again, lost the one way of keeping his love alive, and been revealed to the most evil wizard to walk the earth since Morgana's days – all in less than twenty four hours. Nobody knew where Voldemort had gone but Merlin felt he'd be back because Mars, the symbol of war, burned brightly in the heavens and the whispers of Destiny danced on the wind. As long as the evil wizard lived, Albion's safety was threatened. And for the first time in centuries Merlin felt a stirring.

The time of the Once and Future King was drawing near. Arthur's return was soon, just as Perenelle believed. While despair for her threatened to drown him, hope over this revelation gave him something firm to stand on. He therefore determined in that moment that he'd keep his promise to both his wife and his brother: no matter what future he faced, he would never give up and he would never change.

He had to keep fighting until his Destiny was fulfilled and this time Merlin was determined to do whatever it took to make sure it was _. I won't fail,_ he silently vowed. _This time, I will complete all that I was meant to do._

No matter what.

* * *

 **A huge thank you to every person who read/followed/favorited/reviewed this story - especially the reviews concerning my question about the sequel. I had so many people assuring me they would read it along with leaving very kind words concerning this work. I thank you all so much.**

 **That being said, a sequel will be made! :)**

 **I hope that you enjoyed The Sorcerer's Stone. It has been the hardest fanfiction I have ever written (what with trying to keep everything within canon from start to finish) but I feel it has all been worth it. Please leave one last review, telling me what you thought of the ending. I'd love for this story to get over 100 reviews. Until the next installment, happy reading my fellow Merlin/Harry Potter fans! -Pumpkinmoose22**


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